


what happens in vegas

by god0nlyknows



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Las Vegas Wedding, M/M, Side Lilo - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-04-05
Packaged: 2018-03-11 07:20:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 33,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3318911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/god0nlyknows/pseuds/god0nlyknows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Zayn get drunk, and get married in Vegas AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just a small prologue, the other chapters will be longer, promise!

Harry wakes up slowly, like he always does, but something's off today. His mouth feels like it's full of cotton, and it tastes terrible, there's a throbbing, no, pounding in his head, and he feels like dying. He rubs his hands over his eyes, and fuck, it hurts to open them, everything is too bright.

He sits up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed, and sways in place for a second, eyes still closed, and he's still a bit dizzy, kind of still drunk from the night before. And if he's being honest, last night is all blurry in his head. He remembers being in Vegas for Niall's bachelor party, remembers hitting the casino, then a club, then drinks. So many drinks, _too many_ drinks. 

Harry drags himself to the bathroom, trying not to open his eyes unless he absolutely needs to, and brushes his teeth, considering going back to bed to sleep the hangover off. He rinses his mouth, drinks an entire glass of water, and as he turns around to walk back to bed, he goes head first against the doorframe.

"Fuck," he curses, rubbing his forehead, which now feels like it's gonna explode, and opens his eyes so he won't bump into anything else. He doesn't make it too far though, freezing mid-step as he sees that there's someone else in his bed. And Harry is standing around naked. The other person, this guy, a very handsome guy, by the way, doesn't seem to be wearing much either, and is now staring right back at Harry. How the fuck did he not notice he wasn't alone, before?

"Uhm. Hi," the guys says as he sits up, giving Harry a small smile, a little bit like he's embarrassed, a little bit like he's amused. Everything hurts, Harry's head is spinning, and pounding, and he feels like he's going to be sick, and he's stark naked in front of what's possibly the most beautiful being he's ever seen, "Harry?" the guys tries again.

Harry blinks. This is so bad. He doesn't even remember the guy's name.

He does remember to grab the first thing he sees -a towel from the bathroom- to cover himself up.

"Hm. Ok, so this is a little awkward..." Harry says -the understatement of the year- in a way that he's sort asking for the guy's name-slash-letting him know Harry doesn't remember much from the night before.

The guy seems to understand what Harry meant, and snorts, rolling his eyes slightly, "Zayn," he says.

Harry starts to remember now, remembers them dancing, and talking against each other's necks so they could hear themselves over the music. Remembers them kissing, Harry on his lap in the VIP section, then against the wall somewhere. Remembers them walking around, laughing and kissing and touching, Niall and Liam by their side, and another guy Harry couldn't remember the name now. Harry sees flashes of bright lights, music, people, flowers, strippers, and maybe there was a guy dressed as a priest somewhere? "Guess you're even worse than I am, huh?"

Harry laughs nervously, "Uh, yeah. So. Hm. I'm guessing we...?" Harry looks pointedly at the guy's, Zayn's, hips, then back to his face, and Zayn nods, snorts again.

"Yeah, we did," he says, bringing his left hand up to run his fingers through his hair, and the light catches on a golden band around his finger. 

"Oh, great, you're married. Way to go, me," Harry says, and lets himself fall on one of the fluffy armchairs scattered around the bedroom. This day is getting worse by the second.

Zayn frowns, "Uh, no, I'm not," he says, looking at Harry like he's crazy.

"What's that, then?" Harry asks, lifting his left hand up and pointing at the finger where he'd wear a wedding ring with his right hand if he was, and--what the fuck, he's wearing one too. 

 

Oh no.


	2. Chapter 2

Ok, the thing is: Harry's life is pretty much perfect to him. He lives in a perfectly nice (and expensive) flat on Fifth Avenue, is almost done with his master's degree from Columbia Business School, _and_ is lined up to take over his stepfather's, Robin, place as CEO of his company. 

He spends his summers at the Hamptons, or whatever place he feels like going, mostly in Europe. He has traveled the world, attended exclusive fashions shows, celebrities' parties, and has brunch with New York's finest every now and then. He wears designer clothes, has items sent out to him straight off the runway, and has a chauffeur waiting for him 24/7. 

So you can see why waking up married to a complete stranger might be a bit of a set back, right?

 

 

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no," Harry says, over and over, shaking his head, curls flying everywhere.

"Ok, Harry, calm down," Zayn says as he slips into his boxers, slowly walking over to Harry.

"No!" is all Harry can say, pointing at the golden ring on his finger. This can't be happening. He needs to call Robin. And his lawyer. This needs to be handled as quickly as possible, and Harry can't think straight, his head is hurting really badly, and Zayn is crouching in front of him, looking at him like his afraid Harry is going to pass out. Harry thinks he very well might.

"Listen, I'm pretty sure we're not the first ones to get drunk and do stupid shit like this in Vegas, ok? We'll take care of it, we'll just get it annulled, it'll be like it never happened," Zayn says, and all Harry can do is nod, breath in, and breath out. "Ok, so here's what we're gonna do: you're gonna take a shower, and some paracetamol. I'm going to my room to do the same, and we'll meet downstairs for breakfast. We'll talk it over, we'll figure it out. Deal?" he asks, hands on Harry's knees, looking at him. Harry blinks. "Deal, Harry?" Zayn tries again, and Harry wakes up.

"Yes, deal," he nods, then regrets it because it makes his head hurt even more.

"Ok. Now go, shower," Zayn stands up, and gets dressed, easy as anything. Why the fuck isn't he freaking out? 

Harry would probably try to understand it better, if he wasn't almost dying from a headache. So he did as he was told, showered, got dressed, and went downstairs. When he got to the buffet, Niall and Liam were already there, chatting and eating their breakfast.

"Which one of you didn't think it was a good idea to tell me I shouldn't get married last night?" Harry says as he reaches them, and both of them just looked up at him.

"I woke up in the bathtub, with a half eaten sandwich in one hand," Liam says.

"And I got a tattoo. Do you really think we were better off?" Niall says after him. To their defense, Liam tends to really space out when he's drunk, and Niall is afraid of needles, so if he was drunk enough to get a tattoo, there's no way either of them could've stopped Harry. He lets out a long breath, and sits down, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"It's all gonna go away, don't worry, dude," Liam says, in a reassuring tone, "Robin's got tons of lawyers who can fix this, right?"

"Yeah, but still..." Harry shakes his head, and drinks his coffee, feeling his head starting to get a little lighter from the pill he's taken, and the caffeine. The three of them eat in silence, too hungover to talk, until Zayn showed up with they guy from the night before by his side. Now that Harry was calmer, he could really take a look at Zayn, and yeah, he's gorgeous. He's got big beautiful hazel eyes, his hair is black and shiny, falling in silky smooth waves over his forehead, head shaved on the sides. He also has a fair amount of tattoos, which yes, Harry likes very much, and his cheekbones are perfectly sculpted. Harry could've done a lot worse, drunken-marriage wise.

"So this is the hubby, then?" the guy standing next to Zayn says, with an amused grin on his face. Zayn elbows him.

"Be nice," he says, as he pulls a chair for himself, and sits down, "This is Louis," he points at his friend, who is now sitting down next to Zayn, smiling at them like the whole situation is incredibly funny.

"Nice to meet you," Harry says, because that's how he was raised, even though he feels like slapping Louis' grin off his face, "Niall, Liam," he says, gesturing towards them. Zayn nods as a hello, while Louis tries to snatch something off Niall's plate, only to have his hand slapped away by Niall.

"Niall doesn't share food," Niall shakes his head. Louis looks offended.

"Well, Niall is very selfish," he says, goes for Liam's plate instead. Liam lets him, and Louis smiles triumphantly, "I like Liam better already."

"Yes, well, that's all very nice, bonding and stuff, but what are we going to do about this?" Harry cuts them off, because it'd be great to deal with this first.

"Uhm, we need to get a lawyer, right?" Zayn asks, fixing himself a cup of coffee.

"Harry's got a lawyer," Liam says, and Harry nods.

"We're halfway through, then," he smiles, sips on his coffee, and let's out a content sigh. Harry thinks it's adorable, but doesn't mention it. "Where are you from? he asks, and Harry raises an eyebrow, like, why is that relevant? Zayn seems to understand, and "Just so I know how we'll have to do this, by e-mail or whatever."

"Oh. I'm from New York. Manhattan," Harry clarifies. Louis snorts. Harry raises an eyebrow again.

"So are we," Zayn says, before Louis can say anything, "but we live in Bushwick, though."

Oh. Brooklyn. Ok. That's where the snort came from. Louis probably thinks Harry is just another typical rich boy, which, well, he kind of is. But anyway, doesn't make him any less offended for being stereotyped.

"Well, that makes everything a lot easier. Niall is actually getting married tomorrow--" Louis interrupts him with a _Congratulations!_ , then Harry keeps going, "but we can arrange a meeting first thing Monday morning."

"I don't do mornings," Zayn says, shaking his head, simple as that.

"Excuse me? Don't you want to be over with this as soon as possible?"

"Yeah, but I'm not gonna take a _one hour_ train ride to Manhattan on a Monday morning, sorry."

Harry is bewildered.

"I'm sure you can make an exception for this," he tries to negotiate. "We can send a car to pick you up."

"Yeah, no. How about lunch?" Zayn counters, and Louis seems exceptionally pleased with his friend not bending to fit some rich kid's schedule. Liam and Niall simply watch.

Harry takes a deep breath, squeezes the bridge of his nose, then nods, "Fine, lunch. I'll send someone to pick you up at noon."

"I'll take the train, thanks," Zayn says, and Harry wants to scream, he just wants to not be fucking married anymore! He closes his eyes, his hands curled into fists, and takes another deep breath, then relaxes, places his hands calmly over his lap. Zayn apparently has joined Louis in being amused by Harry's distress, has a small grin curling the corner of his lips.

"Fine," Harry picks his phone from his pocket, unlocks the screen, and offers it to Zayn, "Put your contacts in there so I can send you the address," he says, and finishes his coffee as Zayn does. Harry puts the phone back in his pocket when Zayn hands it back to him, then looks at Niall and Liam, "So, we're done here, right? We've got a plane to catch."

"Oh, yes, right," they say as they scramble to their feet, sending a somewhat apologetic look towards Zayn and Louis. They know how Harry can get when things don't go his way.

"We'll talk soon," Harry says as a goodbye, standing up as well. Zayn nods, smiles a little, and Harry tries not to stare, because Zayn really is beautiful.

"What, no kiss goodbye?" Louis teases, and Harry glares at him. Zayn elbows him again, but is clearly trying very hard not to laugh. Louis looks as pleased as ever. Harry feels Liam's hand at the small of his back, and let's himself be taken away. 

It's going to be a long flight back home.

 

 

Harry calls Robin when he gets home, and Robin is speechless. Harry is almost afraid he's had a stroke, until he speaks again, calmly letting Harry know he'll talk to his lawyers, and that they'll talk again the next day when they meet up with Zayn, to fix this whole mess. He texts Zayn then, sends him his home address where the meeting will be held, and the right time. Then Harry showers again, and decides to spend his entire Sunday in bed, sleeping his hangover off.

On Monday morning, Harry wakes up when he usually would to go to college. He goes to his morning classes, even though he's too nervous to actually pay attention, then goes back home, and orders some food. He's not sure if they're actually going to discuss things over lunch, but better safe, than sorry, right? 

Robin arrives 10 minutes early, with his lawyer by his side. He greets Harry with a small smile, and a pat on the back, but doesn't say much other than that, as they sit in Harry's living room. Harry keeps checking his phone, just to have something to do. 

Zayn arrives 15 minutes late and apologizes, says he got a bit lost on the way there. He looks _good_. Like he dressed up a bit to meet them, which Harry appreciates. He leads Zayn into the living room, and Robin stands up to greet him.

"Mr. Malik," he says, offering his hand to Zayn, which Zayn accepts.

"This is my stepfather, Robin Twist," Harry offers, and Zayn nods.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Twist."

Robin smiles, lets go of Zayn's hand, and gestures towards the couch, telling Zayn to take a sit.

"Would you like something to drink?" Harry asks before joining Zayn on the couch, but Zayn just shakes his head, smiling. Harry takes a sit as well, and nods, preparing himself. Ok, here we go, let's be free again.

"So, I understand you two made a mistake while in Las Vegas," Robin starts saying, and both of them nod. "I also understand you'd like to fix this, but you see, we have a bit of a problem. Are you aware of who we are, and Harry's current position, Mr. Malik?"

"Uhm, not really? I mean, I can tell you're rich," he snorts, gesturing towards the room, "but that's about it. You don't have to worry, though, I don't want any money."

"Yes, well. I'm the CEO and founder of Twist Enterprises. We design softwares for a vast number of clients, and even for the army. Harry here, is lined up to take my place once he graduates," Robin says, pointing at Harry. Zayn seems a bit impressed, but doesn't say anything. Harry is slightly embarrassed, he didn't need Zayn thinking he's even more of a snob. "So you can understand how his actions reflect on me, and my company."

Hm. This is not where Harry was hoping it would go.

"Uh, I guess...?" Zayn is confused. Harry doesn't blame him, he's confused as well.

Robin looks at them for a few seconds, assessing their faces, then keeps going, "What I'm trying to say is, as much as a crazy wedding in Las Vegas is bad, getting divorced right now would be ever worse."

"Robin, what are you--"

"Harry, to put it simply, I'm afraid I can't help you right now. I can't let this annulment happen. You'll come off as reckless and unreliable, and that's not good. Our shares would drop, and we would lose _a lot_ of money." 

"This is bullshit," Zayn finally speaks up. Harry gapes at him, because yes, it is bullshit, but he'd never say it like that, not to Robin, "I'm sorry, but it is. I didn't sign up for this. It's not my problem."

"Yes, I'm aware of that, Mr. Malik," Robin nods, calm as ever, "And for your trouble, and cooperation, we would be willing to give you a very generous compensation." Robin reaches for his lawyer, who hands him a bunch of papers. A contract, from what Harry can see, as Robin hands it to Zayn, "You'd have to try and make this marriage as real as possible, of course. Show up at events with Harry, go out together every now and then, etc, etc. It would be greatly appreciated if you two made an effort. If you two could move in together, it would be even better."

"I'm sorry, Robin, but this is... is..."

"Bullshit," Zayn says again, but is now reading the contract very intently.

"Harry, do you want to work with me?"

"Yes, but--"

"Then this is what you must do. If Mr. Malik is willing, of course."

"I'm not moving to Brooklyn," Harry shakes his head.

"Yeah, and I'm not moving here either."

"Compromise, gentlemen. 3 days a week at one's place, then the next 3 at the other's, then maybe you can have Sundays to yourselves?"

Harry looks at Zayn, and Zayn keeps on reading. He's considering. This is absurd. And it also seems to be the only way to go. Harry was most definitely not expecting things to turn out this way, he was hoping they'd be done with this already, and now, it seems like he's going to be stuck with this beautiful stranger for god knows how long. That's a good point.

"How long would we have to do this for?" he asks, and Zayn looks up at that.

"Six months, tops. Just until your transition is secure."

Harry nods, focuses on breathing in, then out, as they stay in silence while Zayn goes back to reading the contract. Minutes seem to drag on forever, until Zayn finally takes a deep breath, and reaches for Robin.

"Can I have a pen?"

 

Shit, they're really doing this.

What the actual fuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh, here we go!


	3. Chapter 3

So Zayn signed the contract. Then Harry signed it as well after reading it. It basically said they were expected to act like a real couple, that they should try and keep it as much as a secret as possible, to avoid indiscretions such as affairs (and if any of these indiscretions came to light, the contract would be invalid - Zayn wouldn't get whatever he was promised, in case he was the one who committed the indiscretion, and Harry wouldn't get his position at Robin's company if it was the other way around- so both of them would be determined not to break any rules), that Zayn would have to go to any major event Harry was attending, and Harry would have to do the same in return, etc etc.

Robin left after that with a pleased smile, leaving Zayn and Harry to themselves, both of them trying to wrap their heads around what they had just agreed to do.

"So, uhm. Lunch?" Harry says to break the uncomfortable silence. Zayn looks at him like he's weird. "I mean, if we're really doing this, maybe we should get to know each other, right?"

That seems to make sense, because Zayn nods, "Uh, yeah, alright."

Harry nods as well, and gets to his feet, walking towards his kitchen, "I got us some italian food, hope that's okay," Harry says as he grabs the containers, starts putting the food in separate plates. 

"That's a whole lot of food," Zayn says, leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen, arms crossed, taking a look around the place.

"Yeah, well, I though Robin was joining us, so," he shrugs, "Can you get us that bottle of wine, please?" he nods towards it, and moves to settle the plates down...somewhere. He considers the dinner table, but that would be too formal, maybe? He goes for the counter instead. There's some stools over there, casual, good. He gets them glasses, and Zayn comes around with the bottle, sits on one of the stools. Harry opens the bottle of wine, pours them some, "Are you sure you want to do this? I can still call Robin and tell him to forget about it," he asks, pushing one of the glasses towards Zayn.

Zayn seems to think about it for a second, like he's searching for the right words, then he just shrugs, "I know this isn't the most... normal situation, but--I don't know, I could really use the money. So I have to pretend for a little while, then I get what I need, you get what you need, how hard can this be?"

"Like, hard? I mean, you don't know me. And I don't know you, so..."

"Yeah, but like. I mean, we must have gotten along at some point when we met, right?" Zayn says, smiling a bit like he's joking.

Harry snorts, rolls his eyes a bit, "We were drunk when we met," he points out, and settles down on one of the stools too.

"I guess we'll just have to only meet up at bars, then," Zayn shrugs, definitely joking now, an amused smile on his face. 

 

They talk over lunch, and Harry finds out that Zayn's got three sisters, and that his family lives in California. He had gone out there to visit them, and got sidetracked on the way back by Louis, who decided they just  _needed_  to go to Vegas, since they were that close. He moved to New York when he turned 18, and is now 24. He works at a tattoo parlor, and plans on using the money he'll be getting out of this to start one of his own. Louis works with him, and lives next door. He's got a dog named Bruce, and a cat called Selina.

Harry tells him about his mom, his dad, and his sister, Gemma. He tells Zayn about what he's majoring in, and how important his future is for him. He tells Zayn about Niall and Liam, who were with him in Vegas at that time, and about how he had only been single for like a week and a half before going to Vegas. Zayn pays attention, nods at all the right parts, and Harry starts thinking they might survive this, after all.

They decide not to go all the way with the whole sharing places until it's absolutely necessary, or at least until they know each other better. Harry says he'll work on a calendar with all the events Harry might make an appearance, and will require Zayn's presence; Zayn says he doesn't have anything that important going on, but that he'd take Harry to one of his friends' parties if Harry wanted to come. 

At last, they try to come up with a story for their sudden marriage. It wasn't too hard, even though Harry had been with someone up until a week before they met. Truth is, Harry had been dating the son of the opposing company's owner. They met in college, had the same classes, and were bound to do the same thing once they graduated. But Matt had been too afraid of what his father might do if he ever found out, and decided to dump Harry. So unless he came forward with anything, they were safe. Robin never found out, or at least Harry thinks he didn't, because if he was determined to keep Harry married to save his company, he certainly would have intervened if he knew Harry was dating the competition. 

Anyway, they decided to tell people they'd been seeing each other on the down low for awhile now, and finally decided to make things official. Except Harry had been too busy to actually plan a big wedding, so they chose to elope, and that's the end of it. For the "how they met" story, they'd just say they met through friends and hit it off right away, nothing too complicated. Details were important, of course, but making too much stuff up might get messy, too many lies to be forgotten, and Harry is known for being a shit liar anyway.

After that, they decided to call it a day, and Harry walked Zayn to the door.

"Are you going to tell your family?" he asks before Zayn leaves, as Zayn puts on his jacket.

"Don't know. Think my mom'd kill me if I told her the truth."

"I see. You should tell her the lie, then. Just so she won't be hurt if she finds out you'd been married for months and haven't told her anything."

"I'll think about it. She probably won't come around to visit so soon anyway, it's not like we've got the money for it," he shrugs as Harry opens the door. Harry just nods, because he can't really imagine not having the money for anything, and takes a deep breath. How are you supposed to say goodbye to your pretend-husband?

"So, uhm... I'll send you that schedule, yes?" 

Zayn smiles, and nods, "Yeah, we'll talk later," he says as he waits for the elevator.

"Are you sure you don't want me to get the car to take you back?"

Zayn laughs, and shakes his head, "God, no." The elevator pings when it reaches Harry's floor, and Zayn nods once more as a goodbye. Harry waves, and watches him disappear behind the elevator door.

Time to do some planning.

 

For the first three weeks since the agreement, they texted, and even skyped a few times to exchange more information, such as favorite movies, artists, types of food, and found out they don't really share the same interests at all (except in the food department, because Zayn said he could eat pretty much anything). Zayn came from a humble family, while Harry never even had to  _touch_  a hand-me-down in his life. Zayn dropped out of college, while Harry goes to Columbia. Zayn was very connected to his faith, while Harry couldn't remember the last time he went to church. They would really have to play the "opposites attract" card.

When they finally met again, was because Zayn was throwing a party at his place, and he thought it'd be a good idea to give their acting a try. Harry wasn't really excited to go all they way to Brooklyn for a party, but it was probably a good idea to start their public outings with something casual.  _Casual_  being the keyword, Zayn told Harry to dress the least Upper East Sider as possible.

Sooo...just jeans and a shirt? He did his best to try and tone it down, but there's not much to do when pretty much everything you own is YSL, Burberry, and Chanel, is there? He picked up a simple gray shirt, put on his black leather jacket (no one needed to know it was Burberry), let his hair down, styled carefully to pretend he hadn't spent much time on it, and called the car over. 

He gets to Zayn's building half an hour before people are supposed to arrive, and texts him to let Zayn know he's there. Zayn buzzes him in, and Harry gets in the elevator, slightly scared at the noise it's making. Dying in an elevator in Bushwick is not how he wanted to go.

Thankfully, he reaches Zayn's floor without a scratch, stepping out of it as fast as he can, searching for Zayn's door, and just as he's about to knock, Zayn opens it, leaving Harry with his fist in the air, and a surprised face.

Zayn looks just as surprised, staring at Harry for a few seconds, until Harry speaks up,

"What? Not casual enough?" he asks, taking a look at himself. He should have worn something different, shit.

Zayn blinks, "What-no, no, it's... It's perfect, actually," Zayn says, smiling as he steps aside to let Harry in.

"Oh. Hm. Well, thanks," Harry smiles, a bit shyly, even though he has no idea why he's shy, and walks in. Zayn's place is a lot better on the inside than on the outside. It's nicely decorated with edgy pieces, spray paint on the walls, it's all very Zayn-y. 

"So, this is uh, my place. Living room, as you can see," he says, gesturing towards the room, and starts walking. Harry follows, "Kitchen," he says, turning the lights on. It's small, a lot smaller than Harry's, but it's clean, different bottles of alcohol gathered over the counter, plastic cups set beside it, along with a bucket of ice. Zayn goes back to walking, and Harry keeps following him. They go through a tiny hallway, and Zayn opens the door at the end of it, "Bathroom," he says as he turns on the light. It's small too, too small for both of them to be in it at the same time without being pressed up against each other, so Harry doesn't go in. Then Zayn turns off the light, and opens one last door, next to the bathroom, "Aaaand bedroom," he steps aside so Harry can step inside, and Harry does. More spray paint on the walls, and there are a lot of different pieces of paper stuck on it. 

Harry walks further in to get a closer look, "Did you draw all of these?" He looks over his shoulder searching for Zayn, then looks at the drawings a bit more.

"Yeah, they're just some of the designs I did for work... The ones I liked the most and stuff," Zayn says as he comes closer, looking at it with Harry.

"You're really talented," Harry says, and he means it. Zayn smiles shyly, scratches the back of his neck. Harry thinks it's adorable to see someone who looks as much of a badass as Zayn does, being shy because he got a compliment.

"Thanks."

Harry just smiles, and takes another look around the room, "Could use a little bit of tidying up, though," he teases, grinning, and Zayn snorts.

"I live alone, who would I tidy up for?"

"For when you bring people over?"

"Can't bring anyone over for awhile now, can I?" Zayn says, and it doesn't sound like he's mad about it. Let's see how he's going to be six months from now, when his balls have turned blue and fallen off. 

"Yeah, well..." is what Harry says, because what else is there? Then, "So, do you need help like, setting up, or...?"

"Nah, we're all set... Just wanted to talk some things over before people got here. Do you want a beer before we get started? Or uh, whatever it is that rich people drink?" he teases.

Harry rolls his eyes, but he's already smiling, "I drink beer."

"Good," Zayn laughs, and nods towards the door. He waits for Harry to walk out of the bedroom, turns off the lights, and locks the door (" _so people won't get in and do stuff on my bed_ ").

They walk together to the living room, and Harry sits down on the couch, while Zayn grabs them some beers. He sits next to Harry when he comes back, hands Harry one of the bottles, and clinks them together before taking a sip. Harry stares at the way Zayn's mouth curls around the tip of the bottle for more than he should, probably, before he notices what he's doing and looks away, taking a sip as well.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" he ends up asking, drinking some more just so he would have something to do.

"Ok, so. Tonight. Like, what are the boundaries? Are we just gonna hold hands, are we gonna kiss, or...?"

"Oh," Harry says, blinks a couple of times, eyebrows so high they're almost touching his hairline. Zayn laughs a bit at the face he makes. "I don't know, I guess we'll just go with it? I mean, not that I'm uh, opposed to kissing." Like, who in their right mind would be opposed to kissing Zayn? "I mean, if we need to," he adds, and Zayn laughs a bit at him, then nods.

"Ok, so we're on the same page. Now we just have to wait."

So they wait.

 

 

In less than 30 minutes, the place is packed. Not that is that hard, Zayn's apartment doesn't have much space to begin with, but there's  _a lot_  of people there. He introduces Harry to some of them, the ones he can, the first ones to arrive, but it's hard to keep track of everyone after awhile. They spend most of that time explaining the whole marriage story, but it doesn't take too long for people to get drunk and stop caring. 

Harry finds himself having fun. Like honest to god fun. Zayn's friends are super chill, and some of them know a lot about lots of things, which is nice, being able to carry a conversation. They seem to be liking Harry as well, which doesn't really surprise Harry, he knows how to use his charm, his curls and his dimples when he needs to, he's done it countless times before, smiling pretty and being charming at loads of high society's events to make people think he's nice, but most of what he does and says right now is real.

Zayn checks on him from time to time, touches his back and whispers in his ear, something that Harry is finding more and more pleasant the more he drinks. Zayn also seems to be getting prettier, the tipsier Harry gets, and Harry gets more and more focused on the kissing idea as time goes by. So Harry tries his best to keep his distance from him, otherwise he might jump Zayn before he can stop himself.

He lets himself mingle with the people there, dances with them in the make-shift dancefloor they made by pushing the coffee table aside, his jacket long gone, until he feels a pair of hands holding on to his hips. He turns around to tell whoever this is to back off because, well, he's married, when he meets Zayn's beautiful hazel eyes.

"You alright?" Zayn says against Harry's neck, pulls him closer so Harry will hear him over the music. Harry nods, places his hands on Zayn's shoulders, keeps moving until they reach the back of his neck. This is okay, right? It's what couples do, isn't it? "Are you drunk?" he asks with an amused smile on his face, doesn't seem to mind the way Harry is touching him, his hands move to the small of Harry's back.

Harry shakes his head, says  _no_ , but Zayn doesn't seem to believe him, even laughs a bit. Harry laughs as well, "I'm not! Not even close to how I was when we met, anyway," he says, touches Zayn's scalp, feels the little prickly hairs growing there.

"You don't even remember the night we met," Zayn says back with a grin.

"I remember this," Harry smirks, and presses closer because maybe he can't stop from being stupid when he's got a little bit of liquor in him, or maybe it's just Zayn being that close, but it doesn't matter, because Zayn tightens his fingertips on Harry's back, starts moving them so they're sort of dancing again.

"Yeah?" he asks, his grin growing, and Harry nods, still smirking. He knows how he looks like when he smirks like that, knows how they must look like together like that, and he likes it. Zayn must like it too, starts grinding their hips in time with the music, then he asks "What else do you remember?", and Harry just  _can't_  stop himself anymore.

"This," is all Harry says before he pulls Zayn up for a kiss, and Zayn just lets him, pulls Harry even closer, and it's good, so fucking good, a lot better than Harry remembered because it's right there. Zayn's lips are full and he's licking into Harry's mouth, and it's  _so good_. It gets even better when Zayn's hands find Harry's hair and he tugs on it, moves Harry's head the way he wants to, takes control. Harry lets him, he loves it, keeps kissing until people start to whistle, and both of them are getting hard in their jeans.

They're breathless when they pull apart, and Harry just needs to laugh because this is so much better than he could have hoped for. 

Harry doesn't drink anything other than water after that, he wants to remember it this time. They keep finding each other over and over, orbiting around each other, kissing, and talking, and it all seem so easy, almost natural, even. Even when everyone leaves as the party dies down, and Zayn walks Harry to the car that came to pick him up, it's easy to say goodbye, both of them reaching for each other at the same time like magnets, no hesitation, for a goodnight kiss.

And as Harry looks out the window on his way home, he starts thinking that maybe opposites do attract.


	4. Chapter 4

After the party's success, Harry and Zayn decided to meet again, this time, just the two of them. They settled for going to the movies, somewhere near Zayn's place. Harry complained about having to go all the way there again, when he had gone after Zayn the first time, but Zayn said it was a one night only special screening of the  _Basquiat_  movie, and Harry  _just had_  to see it.

So Harry got Preston, his driver, to take him. Zayn's already there when Harry arrives, his hair in a top-knot, arms and tattoos on full display because of his sleeveless shirt. It's definitely a good look. Harry doesn't know if he should go for a kiss or what, so he settles for a hug that's not as awkward as it could be. Zayn hugs him back and smiles either way, so Harry doesn't really mind.

"Come on, we still got time to get popcorn or whatever," Zayn says, tugging Harry by the hand, and not letting go until Harry needs another free hand to get his wallet out of his pocket (he insisted on paying for the food, since Zayn had already bought the tickets). They get to their seats, and Harry rolls up his sleeves after they sit down, taking a look around. It's been awhile since he last went to the movies with someone. Matt and him usually just met at Harry's place, or at the empty corners of Columbia's library. 

"This is nice," Harry says, smiling.

Zayn smiles too, grabs a handful of popcorn, "It is, isn't it?" He nods, eyes crinkling as he smiles, and he offers Harry the popcorn. Harry shakes his head, he'd rather wait for the movie, to start eating. Zayn shrugs. People start filling up the room, the movie hasn't started, and Zayn keeps eating popcorn.

"Can't you wait for the movie to start?" Harry asks after a few minutes. 

"I am waiting," Zayn tells him, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

"No, to eat the popcorn." 

Zayn just looks at him for a few seconds.

"Why can't I eat it now?"

"Because if you keep eating, it'll be over in the middle of the movie!"

"So we'll get another one, then," Zayn says like it's the most obvious thing, and it probably is, but Harry is a creature of habits, and he likes things done his way. He's being a little bit bratty, and he knows it, but he doesn't know how to act any differently. "It's not like you don't have the money for it, anyway," Zayn shrugs again, eats more popcorn.

Harry grits his teeth, "It's not about the money, I  _know_  I have it. Why do you always have to bring it up?"

"Bring what up? That you're rich?"

" _Yes_."

"Because that's what you are?"

"I know, you just don't have to keep saying it every time," Harry says, and he's  _not_  pouting.

"What's your problem with that?" Zayn's eyebrow is still arched.

"I don't have a problem with that."

"Looks like you do," Zayn shrugs.

"I'll leave the analysis to my therapist, thank you," Harry says, and maybe he's pouting now, arms crossed over his chest, "And stop shrugging, shrugger."

Zayn snorts, "You have a therapist? Why d'you need a  _therapist_  for?" he asks, like there's nothing that could go wrong in Harry's life.

Harry is affronted. 

"Nothing that concerns you," Harry grits out, trying to keep his voice down because the lights were dimming, and the opening credits started rolling.

Zayn makes a 'tsk' noise, "You shouldn't keep secrets from your husband, darling," he teases, and Harry's done.

"This is stupid," he says, shakes his head, and gets to his feet. He apologizes to people as he nearly trips on their feet on his way out, searches his pockets for his phone to call Preston. Harry stops once he hits the streets, and a few seconds later, as he's waiting for Preston to pick up, he hears Zayn calling his name. He rolls his eyes, pretends he doesn't hear it, until he can't ignore it anymore because Zayn is right in front of him. Stupidly beautiful Zayn, with his stupidly long eyelashes, and stupidly shaped cheekbones, looking up at Harry with apologetic eyes.

"Come on, Harry, you don't have to go," he pleads, and Harry ruffs out a breath.

"We don't have to do this, Zayn. We...  _get along_  when we're drunk, but we're just too different, alright?"

"I know, but we gotta work this out. We got like, 5 months ahead of us," he reasons, and Harry purses his lips. Preston's voice comes through the phone, and Harry makes up his mind, apologizes to him, tells him he dialed the wrong number.

"Fine, let's go," Harry gives in with a roll of his eyes. Zayn smiles brightly, and leads him back inside. He also gets Harry more popcorn, and some M&M's.

 

Harry ends up liking the movie, and he gets why Zayn likes it too, the whole young artist that moves to New York and succeeds thing, he gets it, even though he hopes Zayn won't end end the same way Basquiat did. After the movie, they end up in a diner, where Harry listens to Zayn talk about art, and his favorite artists, and the importance of street art as a cultural movement.

Harry doesn't know much about art, he's a man of numbers, really, but it's a lovely thing to see, Zayn all excited, moving his hands as he talks, touching his face, rubbing his beard. He also keeps doodling on napkins as he talks, and Harry wishes he could see, but Zayn hides it every time Harry tries. So after a few tries, Harry quits, and just lets Zayn talk. He realizes now that's probably the most Zayn has talked since they met, and Harry tries not to get too distracted by the way Zayn's eyes are sparkling because he's that excited, or the way his lips move.

And maybe Zayn is a mind reader, because he interrupts himself then with a shy chuckle, and,

"Sorry, I get kinda carried away. Let's talk about you now," he says, smiling. Harry laughs, shakes his head.

"I'm really not that interesting. I mostly just go to school on week days, sometimes I work with Robin, then on weekends I just go to whatever sounds less boring," Harry shrugs. 

Zayn looks at him like he doesn't buy it, and a little bit like he wants to laugh, "Wait, are you telling me that everything that happened on  _Gossip Girl_  doesn't happen in real life?"

That gets a laugh out of Harry, "Oh my god, you watched  _Gossip Girl_?"

"No one's gonna believe you if you tell'em."

Harry laughs again, covers his face with his hands for a second, "I can't believe it either," he shakes his head, laughter still in his eyes, "But yeah, you've been lied to. I mean. It was kind of like  _Gossip Girl_  when I was in high school, if I'm being honest... All the partying, and everyone hooking up with everyone, but I- I don't know, I'm just really focused on my career right now? Like, that weekend in Vegas wasn't something I'd normally do. Which reminds me," he says, pulling his phone out to check the time, "Yeah, I should get going, I've got class tomorrow morning."

Zayn checks his phone as well, as Harry is about to dial Preston's number, then he covers Harry's phone with his hand, "It's past midnight, you're not going to make Preston get all the way down here, are you?"

Harry arches an eyebrow, "That's part of his job, Zayn."

" _Harry_."

Harry rolls his eyes, " _What_? What else am I going to do?"

"You can sleep at my place. It's like two blocks away, Preston can get you in the morning," he shrugs.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea."

Then it was Zayn's turn to roll his eyes, "We won't do anything, ok? Just sleep, promise," he draws a cross over his heart with his fingertip. It's both ridiculous and adorable.

Harry thinks, chews on his bottom lip, then for the second time that night, he gives in, "Well, alright."

 

They split the diner tab, and walk to Zayn's place in silence, mostly. Harry admires the buildings around them, how most of them are covered in beautiful colored graffiti, and how safe he feels with Zayn by his side. If he were to walk alone down the streets they're walking now, he'd be scared out of his mind. They get to Zayn's building rather quickly, and the elevator ride isn't as scary this time either. 

"So, you can have the bed, yeah? I'll just need to get a pillow and some blankets, and I'll be all set," Zayn says as they get in. Zayn toes off his shoes as he turns on the lights, after closing the door behind them.

"Oh, no, no, I'll sleep on the couch, really, you don't need to give up your bed," Harry shakes his head, and stands there, doesn't really know what to do. Zayn looks at Harry like he's about to protest, but Harry just shakes his head again, "Really, I'll be fine."

"If you say so..."

Zayn gets Harry a pillow, blankets, an old band t-shirt, and a pair of sweatpants for Harry to sleep in. It's nice, well-worn in that way that it's just the right amount of comfortable, even though the sweatpants don't hang loose on Harry's legs like they probably do on Zayn. They share awkward  _goodnight_ 's, Zayn looking all soft and cuddly in an outfit like the one Harry's wearing, then Zayn disappears into his bedroom. 

Harry gets his phone, sets his alarm, and sends Preston a text, telling him to pick him up at Zayn's place, not his own, an hour before he usually stops by Harry's place. Then he sets his phone on the coffee table, turns off the light, and settles down on the couch (not before stubbing his big toe somewhere as he walked blindly towards it).

It takes him 20 minutes to realize that no, he won't be fine.

Zayn's couch is too soft, a bit lumpy in random places, and it's already doing quite the number on Harry's bad back. He shifts around for a bit, tries to get comfortable, but it's no use. He normally wouldn't bother a host's sleep, but Harry himself won't be getting any if he stays on that couch. So after a few minutes, he gets up, his blanket curled around him, and grabs his phone, uses it to light the way as he walks to Zayn's bedroom.

He knocks on the door as gently as he can, calls Zayn's name a couple of times, before he listens Zayn mumbling something. He opens the door slowly, peaks inside.

"Harry?" Zayn asks. The lights are off, but there's light coming through the curtains, and he can see Zayn slowly sitting up.

"I'm sorry, but-I can't sleep. The couch, I don't-"

Zayn's sleepy chuckle interrupts him, "Told you you should take the bed. Let's switch, come on."

"I really am sorry, I tried," Harry asks, taking a few steps inside the room, "You don't have to go, though, I mean, it's  _your_  bed. I promise I won't move around too much." 

Zayn, who was already grabbing his pillow, stops, looking at Harry in the dark, his head cocked slightly to the side as he considers. 

"Alright, get in, then," he says, and lays back down. Harry closes the door behind him, and moves carefully towards the bed. He can tell Zayn's watching him still, and he tries to act casual about it, tries not to think that the last time they shared a bed was the night they got married, the night they had sex. Harry wishes he could remember how it was. He bets it was good.

He lays down, places his phone on the bedside table, and gets comfortable, laying on his side, facing Zayn, even though he can't see his face anymore. "Goodnight. And I'm sorry, again," he says into the darkness.

Zayn chuckles, "Stop apologizing," he places a hand on Harry's arm and rubs it gently, as if to say everything is okay. "Goodnight, Harry," he says, softer now, like he's already going back to sleep, squeezes Harry's arm once, then let's go, leaving Harry's skin tingling.

 

It doesn't take long for Harry to fall asleep once he gets comfortable, and gets used to the sounds of Zayn's breathing. It also doesn't take too long for him to wake up, since he needs to be on his feet an hour earlier. His alarm goes off, and it takes a moment for him to remember where he is, and what's happening. Zayn mumbles something, turns around, pulls the blanket off Harry and over his own head.

Harry blinks, tries to find where the sound is coming from, looking around, and Zayn pushes at Harry, mumbles some more ( _Make it stoooop)_ , and that startles Harry into action. He sits, rubs his eyes and picks up his phone, turning off the alarm. He thinks about sleeping for another ten minutes, then he looks at his phone again, sees what time it is, and fuck, he's already 30 minutes late, which means he hit the snooze button one too many times. 

"Shit!" he curses, gets to his feet, and nearly falls as his feet tangle in the sheets. He doesn't know where to start, what to do, he's still sleep-disoriented. Harry rushes to the bathroom, uses his finger to brush his teeth because there are no extra toothbrushes around. He goes back to Zayn's bedroom, saying  _shit shit shit_  over and over as he rushes to get dressed, doesn't even worry about leaving the room, Zayn's asleep anyway, it's not like he's going to see anything. He already has seen, for all Harry cares, the night they met, then again in the morning, so. 

He grabs his shoes and goes sit down on the bed to put them on, but ends up falling down with a bounce that seems to wake Zayn up again.

"Can you fucking stop already?" he says grumpily, pushing at Harry again, with his foot this time, nearly pushing Harry off the bed.

"You stop it, I'm late!" Harry swats Zayn's foot. Zayn kicks him again.

"I don't fucking care, just stop making so much noise!"

Yeah, so Zayn wasn't kidding when he said he didn't do mornings. Still, that's no excuse for him to be so rude, Harry thinks.

"You knew I had to get up early today, and you told me to come anyway, so shut up," Harry says as he puts on his shoes, "I need a hairband," he says, waiting for Zayn to tell him where he could find one. Zayn ignores him. "Zayn," he tries again, poking at Zayn's leg with his finger until Zayn does something.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Zayn extends his arm, his wrist next to Harry's face, as if telling him to just take the hairband he kept there. Harry takes it, ties his hair up in a bun, and gets up.

"Okay, I'm leaving now."

Zayn doesn't even answer him, just makes a shooing motion with his hand, and curls into a ball. Rude.

Harry leaves, maybe shuts the door with a bang that's a little louder than it's considered friendly, and meets Preston downstairs. Preston, the angel that he is, has a cup of coffee waiting for Harry in one hand, and Harry's school bag in another. 

It's going to be a long day.

 

By the time Harry's classes are over, Harry is moody. Like, really moody. He didn't get enough sleep, he's still wearing the same clothes from the night before, and he's still upset with the way Zayn treated him this morning. He thought they were making progress, but apparently not. And to make things worse, he ended up paired up with Matt for an assignment. He doesn't even know how it happened, to be honest. And yes, they'll certainly get excellent grades, they work really well together, but Harry is still a bit butt-hurt from being dumped. 

That's why he keeps his eyes trained on his books for the majority of the time the two of them spend together at the library after class. Matt doesn't make it easier for him, keeps stretching his back from time to time, or placing his hand on Harry's back when he leans in to point at something on Harry's book, and Harry wants to scream at him to please, stop. Wants to fight him for being a coward.

He doesn't, though, he ignores it, and keeps working until they decide to call it a day.

They leave together, since their cars are usually waiting at the same spot, and Matt keeps trying to ask Harry about his personal life, about how he's been, and Harry just--He's just done with it. He doesn't want to be friends with Matt if he can't have him, he's not that spiritually evolved or whatever. And he's about to tell Matt so, but then they're reaching their cars and--Zayn's here. He's right here, leaning against the car next to Preston, smiling at something Preston said, looking effortlessly cool, as always.

What the fuck is he doing here? Here, looking well-rested, and fucking gorgeous, with his hair swept to the side in soft waves, in a simple white shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans. Harry is outraged that someone can look this good wearing something so plain.

"Who's that with Preston over there?" Matt asks, pulling Harry back from his thoughts.

Harry blinks a couple of times. This is not how he envisioned introducing Zayn to Matt. He tries to look as neutral as he says, "That's my husband, actually."

Matt laughs, "Husband? Since when are you married, Harry, come on."

"Since a month ago," he says, smiles.

"A month ago? But that's-you can't be serious," Matt seems shocked, to say the least. Harry loves it.

"I'm dead serious. Zayn!" Harry calls out, flashing one of his brightest grins as he walks towards Zayn and Preston. Zayn looks up, still half-smiling from what he'd been talking about with Preston before, then he kind of frowns, looks a bit apologetic. That's probably why he's here, then, to apologize for his behavior earlier, but Harry doesn't need that, now, so he just throws his arms around Zayn's neck, and kisses him. Zayn doesn't kiss back at first, too surprised to do anything, but then his hands find Harry's waist, and he holds on to it, squeezes, licks into Harry's mouth, making Harry gasp.

Harry is still grinning when he pulls away, and Zayn's cheeks are a little flushed. Perfect. 

"There's someone I want you to meet," Harry says, letting go of Zayn, and turning around, trying not to look so triumphant as he takes in the wild look in Matt's face. Confusion, surprise, and maybe a little jealousy? Good, so good. "This is Matt Goddard."

"Matt?" Zayn repeats, confused, then his eyebrows shoot up, "Oh, Matt!" he remembers, knows he's got to play along. "Good to meet you, man, Harry's told me a lot about you," he says, offers his hand for Matt to shake.

Matt does, even if he looks like he doesn't really feel like it, "That's funny, this is the first I've heard of you," Matt all but grits out, "Looks like Harry here loves a secret."

Zayn just smirks, and shakes his head, "He's done with that shit now, aren't you, babe?" he asks Harry, smiling sweetly. Harry just wants to push Zayn against the car and wreck him, right now. 

"So done," he says, smiling as sweetly as he can as well, then looking pointedly at Matt. Yes,  _you_ 're the shit I'm done with. Matt clenches his jaw, then he takes a deep breath, and flashes them a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

"I'm glad, I hope you two are very happy together," he says.

"Aw, isn't that nice?" Zayn says, teasing  _dripping_  from his voice. Zayn probably spends way too much time with Louis, Harry thinks. Matt looks like he's about to punch either of them.

"Yes, well. This has been lovely, but I really should get going. Same time on Monday at the library, Harry?" Matt asks, even though he doesn't seem too excited about spending extra time with Harry, now.

"Yep," Harry chirps, completely giddy, his whole body humming with excitement from what just happened. 

Matt nods towards Harry, then towards Zayn, "Zayn," he says as a goodbye, then turns around, and walks away, hands curled into fists by his side. He gets into his car, and Harry watches as he drives off, grin back on his face in full force. He savors his small victory for a moment, before looking at Zayn.

"Get in the car," he tells Zayn, voice as firm as he can muster. Zayn looks at him with a confused expression, but Harry just shakes his head, opens the door to the back seat. Preston walks around the car and gets in, gets ready to go. Zayn does as he's told, even though the questioning look never leaves his face. Harry follows him in, throws his bag on the floor, and as soon as Preston starts the car, Harry presses the button to roll the partition up.

He's on Zayn's lap before the partition's fully closed.

"What the-"Zayn starts, but Harry cuts him off by kissing him, holding his face in both hands. Zayn's quicker to kiss him back this time, holds on to Harry's hips, pulls him closer. Harry doesn't waste any time, kisses Zayn like he felt like kissing him when he discreetly told Matt off, fingers pulling at Zayn's hair. He keeps pulling until Zayn tips his head back, trails his lips down Zayn's neck, kissing and biting, "Not that I'm complaining, but, what's this for?" he asks rather breathlessly, tightening his grip on Harry's hips before moving his hands up, his fingers going under Harry's shirt, touching skin.

"Thank you," Harry says against his skin, nipping on Zayn's collarbone, "The look on Matt's face,  _god_."

Zayn smirks, "You liked that?" he asks, moving his hands up to Harry's hair, pulling it out of his bun so he can run his finger through it, nibbles on Harry's ear.

"Yes," Harry says, busies himself with unzipping Zayn's jeans. Zayn pulls tighter on Harry's hair in anticipation, watches as Harry pulls his dick out from his boxers. Harry stops,  licks his palm, then takes Zayn in his hand again, strokes him fast from the get-go, "We don't have much time," he says, knows how long it takes to get to his house. Zayn nods, panting already, looking at Harry with blown pupils.

Harry grins, in a way that makes his left dimple pop. Zayn grins back, pulls Harry in for a kiss by his hair, moans into Harry's mouth. Harry picks up his pace, holding on to the back of the seat with his free hand, head bent to watch Zayn's cock in his hand, watch it blurt out precome that Harry wants to lick, wants to taste. Some other time, maybe, when they have more time. Harry would love to get Zayn under him, writhing and begging prettily.

He doesn't think Zayn is the type that begs, but he'd certainly try to make him.

He twists his wrist, rubs his thumb over the slit, spreads precome all over it, gets it wetter, and a couple of strokes later, Zayn's biting into the skin of his neck, trying to muffle a cry as he comes between them, all over Harry's hand, his whole body tensing up, before relaxing with a shudder. Harry nearly comes as well, as he looks at a fucked out looking Zayn beneath him. 

Harry licks his hand clean because Zayn makes him want to do shit like that, and the awed look on Zayn's face is completely worth it. They laugh breathlessly as Harry tucks Zayn back into his pants, just as they reach Harry's building, and then some more when Harry tries to hide his hard-on with his school bag.

And then when Zayn returns the favor as soon as they step inside Harry's apartment, right there up against the door, whispering filth into his ear, Harry thinks his day wasn't so bad, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for taking so long to update, I've reached a writer's block! let me know what you guys think/expect, it's always easier to write when I know people are enjoying it :)  
> and if you're not enjoying it, well, let me know what I did wrong as well, constructive criticism is just as helpful!


	5. Chapter 5

So Harry and Zayn are maybe-sort of-dating. They haven't used that word yet, but it's kind of what they're doing. It's weird to say you're dating someone you're already married to, but anyway. After that afternoon together they decided that yes, orgasms are nice, and needed when you're stressed, and it's even better when they happen with someone else, and not just you and your hand.

It only makes sense, being that they can't really get off with someone else without risking screwing up this arrangement of theirs, and they find each other attractive. But what first started as a "okay, so we'll just call each other when we're on edge or something," turned into "wanna grab some coffee?", and "the guys are coming over later, wanna hang out?", and then "why don't you just stay the night, your house is so far away."

They hadn't had actual sex yet, because they thought it might complicate things a bit more, but god, did Harry want to. He wanted to, wanted to feel Zayn, have him wrap his legs around Harry's waist, or maybe get him on his hands and knees, drape his body all over Zayn's smaller frame, to feel the muscles on his back shifting beneath his fingertips, hell, he wouldn't even mind getting on his own hands and knees for Zayn. Harry didn't really like bottoming, is the thing, the few times he tried had been a disaster, but he was sure Zayn would know how to do it  _just_  right.

Zayn is very observant, Harry found out these past few weeks they'd been "going out". He's smart, knows when to keep quiet and listen, pays attention to details, chooses his words before he speaks, and he's like that in bed too. It's a bit overwhelming, having Zayn's total attention focused on him like that, like he's trying to memorize all of Harry's reactions, how and where he liked to be touched (touched, kissed, bit, or licked) best. Harry thinks he never came harder in his life. And that's why he can't really stop thinking about it, memories of random nights together creeping up from time to time, like right now, when they're hanging out at Zayn's place, and Harry's watching Zayn and Louis share a joint.

Harry would complain about the smell, but it's not really his house, so. And Harry was never one to find smoking attractive, but seeing Zayn puff out smoke was one of the hottest things he's ever seen. Hence, the thinking about the sex thing. Then Zayn is offering Harry the joint, and Harry wakes up, shakes his head.

"Can't. Asthma," he says, checks his phone to see what time it is, "And I gotta go to the library, gotta finish that paper, and work on its presentation," he gets up on slightly unsteady feet. Damned second-hand smoking.

Zayn looks up at him, as Harry starts to put on his jacket, "Is  _Matt_  gonna be there?" he asks, with a teasing-loose smile.

Harry laughs, "Yes, he is, he's my partner, isn't he?"

"I thought Zayn was your partner," Louis chirps in. 

"Not  _that_  kind of partner," Harry rolls he's eyes because they get so stupid when they're high like this.

"He used to be, though," Zayn says, matter-of-factly.

"He--can we not talk about Matt, please, thank you."

"What, what am I missing?" Louis asks, looking from Zayn to Harry, loose limbed and lazy looking.

"Matt was Harry's boyfriend before we met, and-"

"And he dumped me because he's stupid, and now we're working together on an assignment, and that's it," Harry cuts in, and hopes his tone is enough to end this conversation. It's not.

"And he hates that Harry's found someone else, and I think he's trying to get Harry back," Zayn says, stubbing out the joint.

"I didn't  _find_  someone else as much as  _got stuck_  with, but anyway," Harry says, and kind of regrets it as soon as he's said it, because when Zayn looks at him, his eyes are a bit sharper, even if he's still pleasantly buzzed.

"You didn't seem to mind being stuck with me when he saw us together. In fact, I remember you being extremely  _grateful_  afterwards."

"Okay, do not need the details," Louis sing-songs, pretending to cover his ears.

"That's not what I meant, come on," he rolls his eyes, and his phone vibrates in his pocket. Preston, letting Harry know he's already downstairs. "I gotta go, walk me to the door?" Zayn seems to consider, apparently still a bit upset by what Harry said, but gets up anyway. Louis just shouts a " _goodbye, young Harold!_ " as Harry walks out with Zayn. Harry presses the elevator button, then turns to Zayn, tugs him closer by the hand. "I'm sorry about what I said, alright? I couldn't pick anyone better to be stuck with," he says, gently squeezing Zayn's hand.

Zayn grins, and nods, "Yeah, alright. You gonna behave yourself today?" he asks, hooking his finger on one of Harry's belt-loops, pulling him even closer.

Harry laughs, because he knows Zayn isn't really jealous, "Promise," he nods, and leans in, pressing a soft kiss to Zayn's lips because it's right there, and he can't not, after watching it for so long. "Liam and Niall are coming over later, if you feel like hanging out some more. Bring Louis too, if you want."

Zayn smiles, and kisses Harry again, "We'll be there."

"'kay. See you later, then," Harry says, giving Zayn's hand one last squeeze, then steps away, getting into the elevator.

 

It's almost four hours later, and Harry is still at the library. He's tired. His brain is giving up. He's about to tell Matt they should give up and finish it next afternoon, when his phone starts buzzing in his pocket. Harry picks it up, looks at the screen. Zayn.

"I can't talk right now, I'm still at the library," Harry says in a hushed tone. From the corner of his eye, Harry sees Matt glaring at him.

" _When you coming home? Louis and I are in Manhattan already._ "

"I don't know, soon. Just-go home, and I'll be there soon enough."

"You can just go if you want to," Matt says, closing his laptop a little bit harder than he should.

" _Is that Matt?_ " Zayn asks through the phone. Harry rolls his eyes, says yeah, and Zayn snorts, " _Tell him I said hi._ "

"Zayn says hi."

"Well, Zayn can go fuck himself," is what Matt says, because that's a thing that happens now. He's now completely done with pretending to be polite. Harry thinks he's being really rude. Harry also loves that Matt gets that upset over him, but he'll never tell anyone about that part. Matt stuffs his laptop in his bag along with his notes, and leaves without saying goodbye.

Zayn laughs from his end of the line, " _Lovely dude. Anyway, see you soon, then._ "

"Yeah, bye." Harry ends the call, gathers his things, and winces as he stands up. It's no wonder he's got a bad back, with all the hours he spends hunched over books, and his laptop. He'll get the nicest chair ever once he gets an office of his own,he thinks.

When Harry gets home, everyone's already there. Niall, Liam, Louis, and Zayn, all of them at Harry's entertainment room (Harry's mother calls it his playroom, but Harry's not a toddler anymore, so it's an  _entertainment_  room). Niall and Liam are shooting some pool, Zayn and Louis are engrossed in a FIFA match, so neither of them really pays attention when Harry walks in. Harry didn't expect anything different anyway. He's just happy everyone's here, Harry never really enjoyed being alone.

He lets himself fall on his comfy couch, dropping his bag at his feet, and starts going through his mail. He sets the bills aside for later, starts going through some invitations to parties and the like, none of which seem too interesting, until he sees Robin's name in one of them. A dinner party, for charity. Harry doesn't usually care for those, but it's Robin's and it has both Harry's and Zayn's name in it, so he thinks there's no way he'll be able to get out of this one.

"What are you doing this saturday?" he asks, running a hand through his hair.

"Got two appointments in the afternoon, then... There's this thing for a friend, what is it again?" Zayn knees Louis to get his attention, his eyes never leaving the TV.

"Something about an intervention? He's probably just gonna set something on fire and call it art, whatever," Louis shrugs. They do seem to have a particular set of friends.

"Well, cancel it," Harry says, and places the invitation on Zayn's lap. "Please, tell me you guys going?" he asks, looking over the back of the couch to Niall and Liam.

Niall just shrugs, "It's got free food, right? And Barbara would love the excuse to get dressed up, so," he shrugs again, but he has a smile on his face. Barbara, Niall's wife, is truly gorgeous, and anyone with eyes can see how gone for her Niall is.

"Liam?"

"Don't know, I hate going to these things alone."

"You can take me!" Louis says, game forgotten as he shifts in his seat to look at Liam, "I promise I'll make a great date," he grins, and Liam seems to flush a bit at the thought.

"Uhm, sure, why not?" he shrugs shyly. Louis beams. It's been fun for Harry, watching these two tip-toe around each other. Liam has always been kind of shy, more serious and centered between the three of them, him, Niall and Harry, while Louis is loud, and nothing less than honest about what he's thinking. Harry could tell Liam was maybe into Louis that first morning they talked, at the casino in Vegas, but now he was certain of it, by the way Liam would side with Louis whenever all of them got into a silly argument, or how he'd let Louis steal food from his plate every now and then. Harry thinks it'd be good if they got together, they'd probably balance each other out.

"Do you own a suit?" Harry asks Zayn. Zayn snorts.

"Does it look like I own a suit?"

 

So the next morning, Harry decides Zayn needs to go suit shopping, and insists on paying for it, since he's the reason why Zayn needs one. After a lot of arguing, Zayn relents. Harry has classes to attend to, but Preston volunteers to go with Zayn, which Harry thinks it's nice. They've been getting close, Zayn and Preston, and Harry likes it, he's close to Preston as well, trusts him with his life. And after that, they've agreed to stop at Harry's place for a few etiquette lessons. Zayn's smart, it shouldn't be too hard, Harry thinks.

Except, Harry is wrong. It's not that Zayn is dumb, he isn't, he just doesn't see the point in having more than one fork, knife and spoon on the table, why do they need to follow a certain order. He doesn't always remember to switch utensils from one hand to another after cutting the food, and seems to be incredibly bored as Harry explains different ways to eat different types of food.

Harry is getting more and more annoyed by the second, because this is serious for him, most of his future co-workers will be there, and he needs to make a good impression. And Zayn's actions are nothing if not an extension of himself, so Zayn needs to be on his best behavior, for his sake. Harry gets why it must be annoying to have to put on a show like that, but that doesn't make it any less true. He  _needs_  this.

"Can you please at least  _pretend_  to be paying attention to me?" he snaps at one point.

Zayn rolls his eyes, "It's going to be fine, Harry, you're overreacting."

"No, I'm not, you don't get it!" Harry drops his fork with a loud clatter, "You don't know what it's like, okay?!"

"Oh, I can only guess how hard it must be for you, having to go out and socialize, eat great food, and drink expensive wine."

"It's not that, you just-you don't get it!"

"Yeah, I don't, cause I'm just a nobody who lives in Brooklyn and has no money, right?" Zayn says, taking his napkin from his lap, and throwing it on the table, getting to his feet.

"Oh my  _god,_  why does it always have to be about money with you!?" Harry gets to his feet as well, talking louder than before now.

"Because it is, Harry! It is, because here we are, you trying to make me act like someone I'm not, someone who's good enough to be seen by your side!" Zayn raises his voice as well, throwing his arms up. Harry is speechless for a second, because- well. Zayn has a point, but it's not like that, Harry knows Zayn's good enough, but it's not his choice, he doesn't make the rules. It's all a fucked up circus, everyone lies, everyone puts on a show, and Harry doesn't know how to be any different. "See? You can't even deny it. Well, fuck this," Zayn says, grabs his jacket from where it was hanging on the back of his chair, and is out the door before Harry has a chance to say anything.

Shit.

 

When Saturday comes around, Harry is on edge. Zayn hadn't talked him all week, ignored his calls, and his texts. He tries talking to Liam, to see if Louis told him anything about it, or if he knows anything about Zayn, how he's doing, and whether he's going to the party or not, but Liam tells him Louis won't say anything about it, other than that he thinks Harry deserves Zayn's silent treatment. 

So Harry has no idea if Zayn is going to show up, but he knows Robin won't be happy if he doesn't. Harry considers calling in sick or something, but then Liam reminds him that what if Zayn does show up? Then he'll be there, amongst people he doesn't care about, probably doesn't even like, because of Harry, and Harry won't even be there because he's too much of a coward.

So he gets dressed up; black suit, black pants, and white silk button up. He puts on one of Zayn's rings, that he may have forgotten, or Harry may have secretly borrowed, no one knows  (Harry knows-he  _borrowed_  it), just so he'll have something of Zayn with him in case Zayn doesn't show up, and then he's out the door. He texts both Niall and Liam on the way, asks them if they're already there. Niall says he's going to be late because of Barbara, and Liam says he's on his way with Louis. Harry asks him about Zayn one last time, but Liam says Louis doesn't know anything about it either. Well, Harry tried.

The first hour there are just plain torture. Robin just gives Harry  _a look_  once he sees Zayn is not with him, but doesn't say anything about it, he wouldn't, not in front of everyone. Harry is introduced to a lot of different people, important people, owners of different companies, companies that are either under contract with Twist Enterprises, or are possible future clients. People ask Harry about the wedding, about getting married so young, and  _where is this mysterious husband?_ , and Harry just tells each one a different story because what else can he do?

Then he finally finishes his round of introductions and is free to breathe. He walks around, a glass of champagne in his hand, looking for any of his friends. Niall is nowhere to be seen yet, but he does find Liam, sitting at his assigned table with Louis by his side, his puppy eyes scrunched up as he tries to hold back a laugh, Louis whispering something in his ear. They seem too wrapped up in themselves, and Harry doesn't feel like popping their private bubble. He looks around the room once more, and-Matt is here, because of course he is. Standing next to his father, who's now talking to Robin and Harry's mother. He looks at Harry then, and smirks when he sees Harry is alone. 

Harry rolls his eyes, drinks the rest of his champagne in one go, then turns around, walks out of the room,. He needs to breathe. He starts walking through the halls, towards the bathroom, maybe a splash of water to the face would be helpful, he thinks, but he doesn't get very far before someone is pulling him by the wrist, pushing him against a relatively dark corner. For a second there Harry's heart skips a beat, he thinks about Zayn, and then his stomach drops. Matt, again. 

"Where's the hubby, Harry?" he asks, hands on Harry's hips now, holding him in place.

"That's none of your business," Harry says, tries to push him away, but Matt just tightens his grip.

"Aw, trouble in paradise?" he sneers, "I knew it wouldn't take too long before you realized. He doesn't belong here, Harry, doesn't belong with you," he says, moving closer. Harry shakes his head, places his hands on Matt's arms and pushes again, but Matt doesn't budge. "You know that. He's not like you, like us. Come on, don't you miss me?" he asks, nosing at Harry's neck. Harry closes his eyes, digs his fingers onto Matt's arms, but he's not pushing him as hard anymore, he realizes. He  _does_  miss Matt. It was shitty, all the sneaking around, but-they were the same, it was easy.

Still, now that he's had a taste of what is like to be in a relationship that's out there for everyone to see, even if nothing of it was really real, Harry didn't want to go back into hiding. He didn't need that, he deserved better. And that's what made him finally push Matt away, and stand his ground.

"You had your chance, and you blew it. Now, please, leave me alone, alright?" Harry says to a very stunned-looking Matt, and turns around, goes back to the party, where he's safe from Matt's advances. He starts talking to the first person he sees, some rich guy who owns a hotel or something, then he feels a pair of hands on his waist, and seriously? He turns around to tell Matt to back the fuck off, only to be greeted by a familiar pair of hazel eyes. That's the second time Zayn does that, he notices vaguely, before he gets distracted by the sight of Zayn in a tailored suit. 

Zayn looks good. Like really fucking good. His hair is styled to the side, and he's all in black, from his suit, to his shirt, all the way down to his shoes. Harry is staring, he knows he is, but he really doesn't care, because Zayn is fucking beautiful, and he's fucking there. He came. Suddenly Harry feels like he can breathe again.

"Sorry I'm late," Zayn says, smiles, and presses a kiss to the side of Harry's mouth. That jolts Harry into action, he blinks, and shakes his head.

"You're here now," he says, and takes Zayn's hand in his own, giving it a light squeeze.

 

Everything moves swiftly from then on. Everyone is absolutely enchanted by Zayn, and Harry can't blame them, he still hasn't been able to stop staring. Robin seems pleased, and Anne spends about 20 minutes just talking to Zayn. Matt is absolutely fuming. They stop by the boys' table for a bit, arms around each other backs, and it's just so nice. When they finally have some time alone, just as they're sitting down to eat, Harry quietly apologizes for the way he acted the other day, but Zayn just shakes his head, says it's water under the bridge.  _Thank god._

They don't do much other than holding hands, or touching each other's backs or waists throughout the night, and it's driving Harry crazy. He missed Zayn, he notices then. He'd missed his voice, and his smell, and the way he presses the tip of his tongue to the back of his teeth when he smiles or laughs at something he finds particularly funny. Harry can't wait for the night to be over.

After dinner (where Zayn did everything Harry taught him), even more people start coming around to get to know Zayn, which, quite frankly, is starting to annoy Harry. They haven't been able to have one decent conversation alone so far. Still, it makes time go faster, and before they know it, they're saying their goodbyes to everyone (including a slightly tipsy Niall and Barbara), and are getting into Harry's car.

"Thank god that's over," Harry says as he slouches against the backseat. 

Zayn sits very still, looking out the window, and just nods, "Yeah." He suddenly seems very distant, cold, even, and Harry doesn't want that. 

He frowns, "What's wrong?" Zayn chews on his lip, still doesn't look at Harry. _Nothing_ , he mumbles, but Harry doesn't believe him. "Zayn," he tries again, placing his hand on top of Zayn's, but Zayn just pulls his hand away.

"We shouldn't do this anymore."

Harry is confused.

"Do what?"

"This. Us. Whatever it is that we've been doing when no one's watching-You can drop me off here," he cuts himself to talk to Preston, when they pass by a subway station entrance. Harry has no fucking idea what's going on, he just blinks, opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. How did they go from having fun and enjoying each other to this? Once again, he has no way of getting answers, because Zayn is already getting out of the car, "You can call me when you need me to go somewhere again," he says, and closes the door behind him.

Harry is stunned.

"What the hell just happened here?" he asks Preston, who looks as stunned as Harry is.

"Don't know, boss," he says, shrugging and shaking his head.

Harry gets his phone, and calls Zayn. It goes into voicemail two times before he actually picks up. 

_"What is it, Harry?"_

"You tell me! What just happened?!"

Zayn snorts, " _Really? You have no idea? I fucking saw you, alright? You and Matt, I saw you. I'm not someone you can use to keep your bed warm when he's not available._ "

Oh. Zayn must not have seen everything, thought, if he's thinking Harry and Matt are back to sneaking around, and Harry's just using him for when he's feeling particularly lonely.

"I don't know what you  _think_  you saw, but-"

" _Don't lie to me, I'm not stupid. I know what I saw. No one needs to be that close for a friendly chat._ "

"Zayn, I swear to you, nothing happened!"

" _Listen, Harry, I'm really tired. I'll call you... when I call you, okay?_ "

"Zayn-"

" _Bye, Harry._ "

And then he hangs up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when will they finally get it right, huh?


	6. Chapter 6

Two weeks have gone by, and Zayn still hadn't called Harry. Harry was trying to give him his space, he really was, but-It just wasn't fair! Zayn didn't even give him a chance to explain! Surely if he had just listened to Harry, he'd understand what really happened. Why was he being like this? Harry wanted answers, and he's nothing if not someone who gets what he wants. So if Zayn wasn't going to talk to him, he'd find another way to get answers.

And that's how he found himself at a cafe, talking to Louis, because apparently even Louis thought this was going too far.

"I don't know what to do, I honestly don't. He wouldn't even let me explain, it's just-it's not fair," Harry says, shaking he's head.

Louis chuckles a bit at the way Harry is pouting, "Trust me, I know how... guarded and intense Zayn can be about things. But you don't know what was is like for him growing up."

"I know, I've always had money, it was easier for me, I know-" Louis shakes his head, cutting him off.

"No, you don't. It's not just that, Harry. People made fun of him for his faith, spat on him for his heritage... Being short on money every now and then was the least of his worries. He's got a thick skin because he needs one. He pushes people away before they have a chance to hurt him. I mean, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, but I-I would never hurt h--"

"He doesn't know that, now, does he?" Louis interrupts again. Harry huffs out a breath because that's rather rude, but let's him keep talking because it's in his best interest. "All he knows is that he caught you grinding against your ex--" (Harry protests that there was no grinding, but Louis doesn't stop talking), "who, by the way, is also rich as fuck, and can be seen as a better match for you,  _and_  is someone that you spend an awful amount of time with--" ( _Only because I have to, for school!_ ) "Alone, hiding in dark library corners, much like you used to do when you were together. If Liam hadn't made a very convincing case of your innocence, I wouldn't even be here, to be honest. If I were in Zayn's place, I would totally think you were using the fact that your stepfather thinks you're safe from trouble by being with Zayn, to keep sneaking around everybody's backs to get together with this Mark guy."

"Matt," Harry corrects him, then shakes his head, "But that's not the case. I  _swear_  to you, I'm done with him."

"I believe you."

"So can you please tell your friend to stop being an idiot, and talk to me?!" Harry pleads.

Louis thinks before he shrugs, "I'll do my best."

 

So that's what he does. Louis let's himself into Zayn's place, unannounced as always, and Zayn doesn't even flinch when Louis drops down next to him on the couch.

"So, guess who I just met for coffee," is how Louis starts.

"Liam?" Zayn asks, eyes still trained on the book he's reading.

"Nope, try again."

Zayn rolls his eyes, and closes his book, keeping one of his fingers in the middle so he won't lose the page he was in, "Why don't you just tell me, hm?"

Louis rolls his eyes as well, but concedes, "Harry."

Zayn arches an eyebrow, "Why?"

"Because he asked me to."

"Once again, why?" he asks, full attention on Louis now.

"Because you're being stupid. Honestly, how long is this cold shoulder gonna last?"

"Louis..." Zayn starts, like he's tired of the conversation, even though they barely said anything, but Louis beats him to it.

"Seriously, Zayn, why can't you just listen to him? You guys were having fun before, weren't you?"

"Yeah, and then he lied, and-" then Louis cuts him off, because he is completely incapable of holding back what's on his mind, has no brain-to-mouth filter. 

"How do you know he lied?"

"How do you know he didn't?" Zayn counters, and Louis rolls his eyes for the second time in less than five minutes.

"I just do! You'd know it too if you had taken your head out of your ass and met up with him!"

"Why do you like him all of the sudden?!"

Louis shakes his head, "Uh-uhn, don't change the subject. I know you, Zayn. I know how wary you can get. And I would be too, if it was me, but-just maybe give him a chance? He honestly seems like a nice guy, even if he  _is_  a bit of a rich snob."

Zayn stares at Louis as he thinks, chews on his bottom lip. Harry did seem like a nice guy. But Zayn had met guys like him before, rich kids who saw in Zayn, with his tattoos and mysterious-bad-boy look, a chance to piss off their daddies. Of course, Harry didn't seem to want to piss Robin off, that's why they got stuck together in the first place, but still. Harry could very much be using Zayn as a cover for his escapades with Matt, and Zayn was better than that. If he wanted to keep on seeing Matt behind everyone's backs, that's cool, that's none of Zayn's business, but he refused to keep seeing Harry as well. 

Zayn knew himself, he knew he could fall hard and fast if he didn't keep his walls up, and Harry-fuck, Harry is totally the kind of guy Zayn could fall for, no matter how different they were. Harry was fun when they were alone, his laugh was loud and contagious, even when he tried to keep it down, he was smart as fuck, committed to his studies and his future, committed to things he knew were special and important. Zayn loved that fact that under those designer shirts and tailored suits, Harry had an amazing body, littered with silly tattoos that Harry kept covered for the sake of his future job. He loved that Harry was so polite when in public, that he never cursed, not even when he got all flustered by Louis' constant teasing, but when they were in bed, Harry could have quite the filthy mouth, babbling nonsense and cursing as Zayn teared him apart with his fingers and his mouth. They argued, more often than not, but Zayn loved it. He loved that spark. That's probably what he loves the most, the entire duality that is Harry Styles.

Zayn missed him.

"Fine, I'll call him," he says at last, rolling his eyes at the victorious smile Louis has on his face. 

When Zayn finally calls Harry, Harry is about to lose his mind. Not really because of Zayn, but May has just started, and Harry is studying for his final exams pretty much 24/7. He doesn't even check his caller ID before answering his phone, eyes glued to his book.

"Yes?" he says, holding his phone against his ear using his shoulder so he can type something on his laptop.

" _Harry?_ " Harry blinks, nearly drops his phone once he recognizes Zayn's voice, and stops everything so he can hold the phone properly. " _You there?_ "

"Yes, yes, hi! You called," Harry says, stunned. He had pretty much given up all hope. Zayn chuckles from his end of the line.

" _How perceptive,_ " he teases, and it shouldn't make Harry smile, but it does. " _How, uhm, how have you been?_ "

"Good, good. Studying. You?" Harry asks, a bit desperate to keep the conversation going, even if he's not having one of his most eloquent moments.

" _Everything's good, too. I was wondering, uh, if you wanted to go grab some coffee sometime?_ "

Shit.

"Oh. I-I'm actually really busy? Like, until... next Friday, I've got all of my exams coming up, so I'm not leaving the house unless I'm going to class," he laughs even though he really feels like crying. Harry really misses being able to think about anything that isn't studying. "But if you're ever in Manhattan and feel like saying hi, I wouldn't, you know, shut the door in your face or anything," Harry says, trying to go for relaxed, not too desperate. Zayn chuckles again, so Harry thinks he's doing just fine.

 

Zayn comes around the next afternoon, a book of his own under his arm. They sit on Harry's couch, and Harry studies as Zayn reads. They make a habit of it, keep each other company for a couple of weeks, and it's nice and quiet, and Zayn squeezes Harry's knee whenever Harry starts getting frustrated, grounds and relaxes him. They don't talk much, and they don't kiss anymore, but it's good, the way Zayn understands him, knows he needs to focus. Harry is incredibly grateful.

He's even more grateful when he's done with his exams, and he can relax, can breathe again. They finally get to talking, Harry tells Zayn everything that happened, exactly how it happened, and Zayn believes him, apologizes for being so quick to push Harry away. He explains Harry why he did it, and why he still thinks they shouldn't keep messing around. Harry says he agrees, even though he doesn't say it's because he's just as scared of falling for Zayn as well.

And that's it. They're friends. And it's good. Zayn teaches Harry how to visit him by train, and laughs at Harry for using his scarf to protect his hand from touching the pole. He shows Harry around the neighborhood, takes him to a chinese restaurant that he likes to go with Louis all the time, and Harry doesn't think he's never paid less for food in his life. He also goes to Harry's graduation, sitting right next to Niall, Louis, and Liam. They swap books, and pieces of clothing every now and then (Harry thinks Zayn looks absolutely amazing in McQueen and Balmain, even though Zayn has no idea what he's wearing), and they still pretend in front of Zayn's friends, or Harry's acquaintances. It gets easier and easier to do so as time goes by and they get to know each other, but that's all it is, pretending. At least that's what Harry tells himself over and over, whenever he feels that pang in his gut, that swell in his heart, whenever Zayn smiles at him, and kisses his cheek.

Pretending, is all that is. Harry thinks it's easy, thinks they do a good job at it, then Zayn calls him, and he's really nervous about it for the first time.

" _Haz?_ " is what he says when Harry picks up. He looks at the clock. It's 10 am, and it's really weird that Zayn's calling him right now, he's usually not up before noon.

"Yeah, what's wrong?" Harry asks, because there's got to be something wrong for him to be up so early.

" _Nothing's wrong, calm down,_ " Zayn chuckles, but it sounds like he's worried about something, " _It's just, like. I have a favor to ask you. You don't have to do it, but like. Okay, so, my mom's coming to visit. My mom, Waliyha and Safaa, actually, and uhm. I told her about us, not the deal part, but, you know, that we're really together, and I was wondering if you could go out with us sometime? I already told her that maybe you were going to be too busy, now that you started working with Robin and all, so if you can't, or don't want to, that's okay too._ "

Harry blinks. Shit. Fooling Zayn's friends was one thing, but his family? That was something completely different. Mothers have a sixth sense, they know when someone is trying to bullshit them.

"Do you think we can do it?"

" _We can try? I think we can pull it off. We know each other now, right?_ " Harry chews on his lip, trying not to smile.

"Yeah, we do. If you think we can do it, then we can do it."

So they get together later that day, to figure out the details, get their story straight. Harry convinces Zayn to stay at his place, and to get his family to stay there too, because Harry has two extra bedrooms, and " _it's only for the weekend, Zayn, and_   _are you really going to make your mother sleep on that awful couch?_ ". Harry makes sure his pantry is filled with everything they might like, gets new sheets and towels for the spare bedrooms. He gets the entire place cleaned up and organized, then Zayn comes along on friday and messes things up, because " _she'll never believe we share this place if everything's spotless, Hazza._ "

On saturday afternoon, Harry stays behind when Zayn goes out to pick them up, so they can talk to each other first, catch up on everything, and Harry can't stop fidgeting. He's nervous, like he hasn't been in a long time. He's used to charming people, yes, but just so they think he's pleasant, it was never like this. He dresses as casually as he can, so that he'll look more approachable, practices his smile in the mirror. Zayn told him not to worry about things too much before he left, but Harry knew he was a bit apprehensive as well. Zayn already did his bit for Harry, he dressed up, and learned how to be a proper gentleman, all for Harry, and now Harry wanted to repay the favor, wanted to make him proud.

Harry thinks about going over things one last time, but then he hears people coming in, and it's show time.

 

30 minutes after Zayn arrives with his family, Harry has no idea why he was so nervous. Trisha and the girls are absolutely adorable, and seemed to think Harry was cute too, couldn't stop fussing over his curls and his dimples. Harry tried his best to be funny, and attentive, asked the girls about school, and their friends, as Zayn talked to his mother, one hand on Harry's knee, Harry's arm around his shoulders. They were too tired to go out, so Harry ordered them some food as the girls showered and got more comfortable. 

Zayn seems to have relaxed all at once as well, realizing that they were good, that they believed him. They talk over dinner, Trisha asks Harry about his job, his family, and his future. Zayn tells her all about how smart Harry is, and how one day he'll run the entire company, tells her how proud he is of Harry. And yeah, it might've been a lie, might've been pretending, but Harry flushes either way. Then Waliyha starts talking about all she wants to do the next day, and Harry forces himself to focus.

When they share a bed later that night, Harry can't help but think how intimate it is. They had slept together before, every time Harry stays at Zayn's place because there's no way he'll get comfortable on Zayn's couch, so it shouldn't feel like it's new, but it does, somehow, now that Harry has seen this other part of Zayn's life, how affectionate he is with his mother and his sisters, how caring he can be. Harry tries really hard not to think about that, about how Zayn had kissed him when he knew his mother was looking from afar, or about how he felt when Trisha had hugged him goodnight and he let himself forget for a second there that this was all a show.

He takes one last look at Zayn's sleeping face, trying not to think about how he could get used to it so easily, and turns to his other side.

They spend the entire sunday walking around. They go to Central Park, to Times Square, and Broadway. They get dressed up for dinner, because Harry got them a table at  _per se_  for dinner, and once again, Harry almost gets knocked off his feet at the sight of Zayn in a suit. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to it. After that, Harry takes them to Dylan's Candy Bar, and the girls go  _absolutely crazy_. Harry pays for everything, dinner, and all the candy, even though Trisha tries to protest. Harry tells her it's a special occasion, that he's more than happy to do it. Zayn just waves his hand around, like he's tired of arguing about who's going to pick up the tab with Harry.

They go home after that, and everyone's tired, and sated. Trisha and the girls are going home early in the morning, so everyone goes straight to bed. Harry takes his laptop with him, checks a few e-mails as Zayn settles beside him. Zayn fiddles with his phone, checking his appointments for the next day, and they finish things up almost at the same time. They set their things aside, and turn off the lights, letting the room to be illuminated by the lights coming from the streets, laying on the sides, facing each other.

"We did good, right?" Harry asks, looking at Zayn, taking in the way the shadows dance across his face. Zayn smiles.

"We did. You didn't have to do all of this, though," he says, reaching out, running his fingers through Harry's hair.

Harry can't help but to move closer, lean into his touch, "I wanted to."

"Why?"

"Because it's important to you," Harry simply says, because it's true. Zayn smiles again, moves his fingers through Harry's hair. Then he leans in, and presses his lips to Harry's, simple and chaste as he has been doing over the weekend, but this time it's different, because no one's watching, it's just for them. Harry's gasps softly, surprised, and he feels Zayn smile against his lips. Harry reaches for Zayn as well, touches his waist, squeezes it lightly, and Zayn kisses him again, and again, runs his tongue over the seam of Harry's lips, asking for permission.

Harry parts his lips for him, lets him in, and nearly moans as Zayn's tongue touches his, he'd forgotten how much of a good kisser Zayn is. 

They kiss, and kiss, and kiss, hands touching every inch of skin they can find, and Harry thinks they shouldn't, after they talked about what it could mean to them, but he just can't get enough, he wants it all. He even says it out loud, as Zayn moves them until Harry is on his back, Zayn between his legs. Harry doesn't even know he's said it, until he sees Zayn nodding, breathing hard.

"I want it too. Want you so bad," Zayn says against his skin, nipping on Harry's neck, running his hands over Harry's thighs. Harry is so glad he's decided to sleep only in his briefs tonight, because now he can feel Zayn filling up against him, can push up against Zayn and show him how badly he wants him as well. He moves a hand to Zayn's hair, cards his fingers through it, pulls on it, and Zayn groans against his lips, pushes his hips down harder against Harry's.

It doesn't take too long before they're pulling at each other's clothes, and then they're skin on skin, Harry hard and leaking against his stomach, and Zayn starts moving down Harry's body, tongue circling Harry's nipple, tugging on it with his teeth the way he knows Harry likes.

"What do you want? Tell me, Harry, talk to me," Zayn breathes, because apparently he likes when Harry starts babbling, and keeps moving down, biting marks that will soon fade away on Harry's skin.

"I want--want," Harry tries, but it's so hard, the words all jumbled in his brain because Zayn is mouthing at the tip of his cock, tasting the precome there, and Harry's skin is on fire, his whole body buzzing with it. He moves his hands to his hair, pulls on it hard, hoping the pain will help him focus, as he tries not to buck up and make Zayn take him into his mouth already. "Just-keep doing that," he gasps, as Zayn takes him in his hand, and slides his lips further down, finally taking him in, "but don't make me come, wanna do it with you inside, yeah? Want you to fuck me, want to feel it."

Zayn moans around him, sucks harder, takes him deeper, and Harry can't keep still, starts moving his hips, hands still in his own hair, trying his best not to come too soon. He blindly searches through his bedside table drawer until he finds the lube he keeps there, and a condom.  Harry ends up smacking the side of Zayn's head with the bottle of lube in his haste to hand it to him, which makes Zayn laugh breathlessly as he pulls off Harry's cock.

Harry closes his eyes as Zayn coats his fingers, he can't keep watching without coming right there. Zayn takes Harry into his mouth again as he starts opening him up with his fingers, taking his time, paying attention to Harry's reactions, until Harry is writhing beneath him, begging Zayn to just fuck him already. He would probably make Harry wait for a little bit more, just because he's so pretty when he begs, but Zayn can't wait anymore either.

He rolls the condom on, and slicks himself up, hovering above Harry's willing body. Harry thinks he's about to explode, as he looks up at Zayn, the way Zayn's pupils are blown up, how messed up his hair is, and the way his cock is hard and heavy between his legs. Harry doesn't think he's ever wanted anyone this much. Then Zayn is lining himself up, and all Harry can think is yes, yes, yes, he spreads his thighs further apart, not even thinking about how it'd hurt the last time he tried doing this.

Then he remembers, because Zayn is thick and is stretching him out even further, and his whole body tenses up. But Zayn is careful, and attentive as always, pushes in slowly, starts tugging on Harry's cock to distract him from the pain, whispers against his lips how good he is, tells Harry to relax, to let Zayn take care of him. And Harry does, breathes in, and out, opens up for him, and soon the pain gets dull, starts fading away, and Harry moans.

They start moving together, breathing into each other's mouths, and Harry gets his hands on Zayn's ass, pulls him in even further. Zayn starts moving faster, harder, punching sounds from Harry's mouth, Harry can't shut up. Zayn holds on to Harry's hips and shifts his angle a bit, making Harry let out this drawn out  _fuuuck_. Zayn smirks, aims for that same spot over and over, "Like this?" he asks, and Harry nods frantically, fingers holding on to Zayn's back for dear life.

"So close, so--touch me, please, Zayn,  _please_ ," Harry begs, and Zayn is quick to comply, takes Harry in his hand and starts stroking him in time with his thrusts, watching Harry intently, focused solely on making Harry come. And he does, fuck, he does and it hits him like a fucking train, the tugging in his stomach getting tighter and tighter until it unravels with a blast, his whole body shuddering with it. Zayn fucks him through it, chases his own high, and then he's coming too before Harry has even had time to come down.

They stay like that, tangled in each other as they try to get their breathing back to normal, and Harry winces when Zayn pulls off, even if he does so as gently as he can. Fuck, he's gonna feel that for days. Zayn goes to the bathroom to throw the condom away, and comes back with a wet cloth. He cleans Harry up, placing soft kisses on the skin of Harry's stomach, moving all the way up to his lips, kissing him slow and lazy. They get under the covers, and Zayn moves them until they're on their sides, Harry's back to Zayn's chest, and places a kiss just under Harry's ear.

"Night, Haz," Zayn whispers, and Harry smiles.

"Night, Zayn."

 

The next morning they take Zayn's family to the airport, and Trisha tears up a bit when she says goodbye to them. She tells them to be good, and take care of each other, and she also tells Harry to come around with Zayn the next time he goes out to visit them. Harry promises he will, trying really hard not to think about how he'll probably never have a chance to follow through with that promise. He lets himself forget about that, because as they walk away to his car, Zayn's fingers are still laced with his, even though Zayn's family is long gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo, 200 kudos! thank you guys so much, i had no idea you'd like this that much haha also, next chapter will probably be the last, and the longest. let me know what you thought of this one, and what you think it's going to happen in the next! love you xx


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for any misspellings, it's 5am and i'm too tired to proof-read, but enjoy either way!

"I'm so fucked," is what Zayn says when he gets to work later that day, dropping down next to Louis on one of the couches on the lounge area of the studio.

"Well, hello to you too, Zayn, I'm fine, thanks for asking, how about you?" Louis asks, closing the magazine he'd been reading.

"I'm fucked. Really," Zayn says, closes his eyes, and runs a hand through his hair.

"I have a feeling you're trying to tell me something. How about you start at the beginning?" Louis says, turning around so he's facing Zayn, putting his best psychiatrist face on.

"Well...."

 ***

Harry and Zayn went back to Harry's place after they left Zayn's family at the airport, so Zayn could get his things to go back home. They still hadn't talked about the night before, which could probably be really smart, or really stupid. Harry goes straight to the kitchen so he can get a start on his coffee, and Zayn goes to Harry's bedroom, starts gathering his things.

Zayn takes a look around Harry's room while he picks up random articles of clothing he left here and there (honestly, how much of a mess can he make in three days?), and soon enough, his mind is flooded with images from the night before, how good Harry looked and felt around him, and he just _wants_. Wants it again, over and over, he's _so_ fucked. They shouldn't have done anything, Zayn could deal with a little pining and a lot of sexual tension just fine, but now that he knew how the real deal was, shit. There's no way he could forget it.

Still, he had to try. He grabs his bag and throws it over his shoulder, Harry's spare set of keys in his other hand, the ones he gave Zayn because it was already unusual that they didn't live together, even though they were married, and it would be even weirder to Zayn's mother if he didn't even had the keys to Harry's place, and goes down the hall to find Harry. When he gets to kitchen, Harry is already sipping on his coffee, and reading something on his phone, leaning against the counter, the sleeves of his shirt already rolled back down, and his buttons done all the way up to cover his tattoos.

Zayn both loves it, and hates it.

Hates to see him all covered up like that, but loves that he's the one who had the chance to see him, really see him, to see all the marks on his skin, see him naked and writhing, and how he looks like when he's coming, completely blissed out. The memory alone was enough to make Zayn feel heat creeping up the back of his neck.

"Got all my stuff," he says, in lieu of getting Harry's attention. Harry looks a bit startled for a second, then relaxes. "And, uhm, your keys," Zayn says, and finds himself walking over to Harry. He knows he shouldn't, but his feet seem to have a mind of their own. He places the keys on the counter, next to where Harry's hip is resting against it.

"Oh, okay," Harry nods, and shifts his weight from one foot to another, but doesn't move away, looking down at Zayn's hand on the counter, then slowly all the way up to Zayn's face.

"Thank you, again. You really didn't need to--" but Harry shakes his head, cutting him off.

"I told you, I wanted to."

Zayn bites back a smile, nods, "Alright. I should, hm, I should go, then."

"Yeah, me too," Harry says, breathes, almost, his voice dropping next to a whisper, and when the fuck did they get this close? They're so close, Harry's eyes so green, his lips so inviting.

"I really want to kiss you, right now," Zayn finds himself saying, Harry breathes in deeply.

"Yeah?" he asks, eyes trained on Zayn's lips now. Zayn hums, nods, his hand moving from the counter to Harry's waist. "You can," he says, setting his coffee mug on the counter, "We shouldn't, but I really want it, too."

And then they're kissing, Zayn's bag on the floor, his hands fisted in Harry's hair, and Harry moaning into the kiss as he lets Zayn pull him down because Zayn refuses to stand on tippy-toes to make up for their height difference. Harry wraps his arms around Zayn, holds him incredibly close, and there's nothing sweet about this kiss, is hot, filthy slow and pure want all rolled into one, like the last couple of months have been leading up to this, like Harry couldn't hold it back either now that they'd crossed that line. 

"How much time do we have?" Zayn asks, pressing Harry against the counter, starting to work on Harry's buttons, mouthing at his neck.

"Enough," Harry gasps, fingers twitching against Zayn's sides.

"Enough for what?" Zayn urges, biting over the swallows on Harry's chest, hard enough to bruise.

"For whatever you want, we'll make time, _fuck_ ," Harry says, his back arching into Zayn's touch. He pulls Zayn's shirt off, leaves it on the kitchen floor, and helps Zayn push his own shirt off his shoulders. It's all a mess of clothes after that, hands touching everywhere, teeth sinking into skin, sucking and bruising, both of them panting against each other, until Zayn has him bent over the kitchen counter, stroking him as his cock moves back and forth between Harry's cheeks. Harry is still a bit sore from the night before, but he still wants it, pushes back against Zayn, whimpering prettily every time the tip of Zayn's cock catches on his rim. "There's stuff.. My bag," Harry pants, pointing at it, trying to reach it, until Zayn does it for him.

"Prepared, aren't you?" he teases, rummaging through Harry's bag, finding the condom and the lube, drizzling some on his fingers.

"Had to be," Harry gasps as Zayn circles his rim with a slippery finger, "cuz, you know..." Because of Matt, because they always fucked wherever they could find some privacy, most of their sexual encounters not being planned at all.

"Shut up, don't talk about him," Zayn says against his neck, and pushes his finger in, taking Harry by surprise, making him groan loudly. It takes Harry a few seconds to actually get anything out, because Zayn started moving his finger in and out, turning his brain to mush.

"Are you _jealous_ , Zayn?" Harry teases once he finds his words, and he's so happy he did, because Zayn pushes a second finger then, twists them, and Harry sees white.

"Shut up," Zayn says again, bites on Harry's shoulder. He knows he shouldn't be feeling like this, like he hates anyone who's ever had a chance to touch Harry, but he does, and he's too turned on to be rational. 

Zayn always looks so cool, so put together, Harry loves to see him lose it, specially because it's over him, over thinking about Harry and someone else. It's dangerous to feel this way, Harry knows, he shouldn't feel this pleased about it, but he does nonetheless. Zayn's pushing a third finger in, panting against his neck, and Harry is fucking high on it, his whole body buzzing, he's so fucked.

"I never let him fuck me, you know?" he says, because he needs to, wants Zayn to know, wants to rile him up even more. It works, because Zayn groans, pushes his fingers even further, presses against that spot that makes Harry's knees buckle.

"You didn't?" Zayn asks, fucks Harry with his fingers, and Harry can't help but to push back.

He shakes his head, fingers clutching the edge of the counter so hard his knuckles turn white, "Just you," he gasps, smirks when he hears Zayn cursing behind him.

"Fuck, you ready?" he asks, scissoring his fingers for good measure.

Harry nods, keeps pushing back, "Yeah, come on, do it, fuck me," he says, arching his back. Zayn pulls his fingers out, and rolls the condom on with shaky fingers, spreads more lube on himself, before pushing in with one smooth, fast thrust that has both of them crying out loudly. He stays deep and still for a few seconds, his lips pressed to the back of Harry's neck, holding Harry's hips in both hands, until Harry starts pushing back again, "Move, please, come on," Harry pleads, eyes shut tightly. His heart is pounding, his face feels so hot, his dick achingly hard and leaking between his legs.

Zayn does as he is told, pulls out almost all the way, then slams back in, keeping Harry in place by his hips, keeping him right where Zayn wants him as he keeps on moving, fucks Harry hard and fast. He moves a hand up Harry's back, feeling the way his muscles shift as he arches his back even further, keeps moving all the way to Harry's hair, curls his fingers in it and tugs, hard, smirking as Harry whines, clenches around him. He pulls Harry closer by his hair so he can whisper in his ear.

"You like it when I fuck you?" he asks, because he needs to know, needs to hear Harry babbling filth, get him the way no one else gets, cursing and moaning. Harry seems to be too out of it to answer, so Zayn stops moving, tugs on his hair again, "Tell me, Harry."

"Fuck, yes, _yes_ ," Harry gasps, desperate now, starts moving back and forth, fucking himself on Zayn's cock, and Zayn fucking loses it, bites on his lip hard, hoping the sting will stop him from coming too soon. He places both hands on Harry's shoulders, pulls Harry against him harshly as he pushes into him over and over, and Harry keeps talking, can't stop now that he's started, Zayn's name spilling from his lips along with chants of _so good, so good_ and _don't stop, don't you fucking stop_. Zayn can't speak, can't do anything but keep on fucking into him until Harry is crying out and spilling all over the counter, clenching and unclenching around him, breathing so hard Zayn is a bit concerned, even.

But before he can start moving again, Harry is turning around and dropping to his knees, pulling the condom off Zayn's cock, and taking him into his mouth like he'll die if he doesn't make Zayn come soon. 

"Fuck, Harry,  _fuck_ ," is all Zayn can say as Harry grabs his ass and pulls him in, taking him all the way into his mouth, swallowing around him, and three minute thrusts is all it takes to have Zayn coming down his throat, both hands tangled into Harry's hair, Zayn's thighs shaking as he tries to stop himself from falling to the ground, spent. Harry keeps sucking him off, swallows everything Zayn gives him, before pulling away, and falling back against the counter, naked on the floor, his body covered in sweat, his mouth red and shiny with spit.

Zayn is _so_ fucked.

Zayn tries to decide if he should just get dressed now, if he should help Harry up, but Harry ends up making that decision for him, wrapping his long fingers around Zayn's wrist, and pulling him down to the floor with him. Zayn laughs, still a bit breathless, and falls down next to Harry, both of them laying there, naked on the kitchen floor. Harry laughs as well, still fucked out of his mind, crawls over Zayn to bite at his chest and neck because fuck it.

He pulls back to look at Zayn, beautiful, gorgeous Zayn, smiling as Zayn reaches out and runs his fingers through his hair. Harry touches his face, runs his thumb over his scruffy jaw, and leans down to give it a bite as well because it's right there, "What are we doing?" he asks against Zayn's skin, "What are you doing to _me_?" he groans, hiding his face on Zayn's shoulder. He was never live this, impulsive and reckless like he always seems to be when Zayn is concerned, ever since the night they met and decided to get married. Zayn just holds him closer, and presses a kiss to his temple, because he doesn't know how to answer that either.

 ***

"Ok, so you're freaking out because you guys fucked?" Louis asks, after Zayn tells him about the weekend with his family, and what happened between him and Harry. "Everyone with eyes knew that was bound to happen, Zayn."

"Well, I didn't! I'm gonna fall for him, Louis, I know I will," Zayn groans, rubs his face with both hands.

"What's so bad about that, though?"

"Because it isn't real! None of it is real!" Zayn throws his hands up, and sags further into the couch. Louis just looks at him for a few seconds, lips pressed tight.

"It could be."

Zayn turns to look at Louis, and hates himself for the hopeful tug he feels in his chest.

***

 

***

So the first few days after it all happened were a little awkward. Shy texts here and there, Louis telling Zayn he wouldn't let Zayn run from it this time, Niall telling Harry to stop being a little shit, and Liam staying politically neutral. Then Friday came around, and they decided to go out for drinks. Harry was nervous, he hadn't seen Zayn since Monday morning. So if he spent an extra 30 minutes getting ready, no one could really blame him. 

They settled for a bar next to Louis and Zayn's work, and so Harry, Liam, Niall and Barbara piled up in the back of Harry's car, Preston driving them across town. When they get to the place, Louis and Zayn are already there, standing by the bar, beers already in their hands. Zayn gives Harry a shy smile when he spots them, while Louis nearly throws himself at Liam. Harry doesn't really know what to do, even if he feels like throwing himself at Zayn too. 

When they pull away, Louis looks to Harry and Zayn pointedly, and " _That's_ how you greet someone you're fucking," he says, and Harry is sure he's flushed bright red. Zayn clears his throat, Niall and Barbara are laughing, and Liam just hugs Louis closer, tries to pull his face against his chest so he won't be able to say anything else.

"Aw, come on, you know you want to!" Niall says, clearly incredibly amused.

"We won't look so you won't get shy," Barbara adds, already turning her back to them, pulling Niall with her. Liam does the same with Louis, and then there's only Harry and Zayn. They look at each other, Harry chews on his lip, trying to hold back a smile, and Zayn grins at him, beckons Harry closer with his head shyly, and that's all Harry needs, really. He steps up to Zayn, placing his hands on Zayn's hips, as Zayn's go straight to his hair. 

"Hi," Harry says, resting his head against Zayn's, and fuck, it feels good to be this close to him again.

"Hey," Zayn says back, smiling, moving his fingers through Harry's hair, before twisting them in it, and pulling Harry down for a kiss. It was supposed to be a sweet one, just a quick one for a "hello", but they hadn't seen each other in almost a week, and Zayn'd missed Harry's taste, so they kiss, and kiss, only stopping when they hear their friends whistling at them, giggling into each other's mouths as they pull away.

"See, all good now!" Louis chirps, smug as hell, "Come on, time for shots, you rich kids are buying," he states, and so the night begins.

 

After the third round of shots, everything starts getting a little blurry. Harry is not used to drinking, so it hardly takes anything to knock him off his feet. Zayn, god bless him, stops him from taking a fourth shot, and gets him some water. Harry sticks to water after that, sometimes taking a sip from whatever Zayn's drinking, and the night flows easily, Harry's arm around Zayn's shoulder, like they're just a group of friends on a triple date. They talk, and laugh, and kiss, and before they know it, it's already 3am. Louis is clinging to Liam like Liam is his favorite teddy bear, Niall and Barbara are singing loudly to whatever song the bar is playing, and they decide to call it a night.

Niall and Barbara take a cab back to Manhattan, shouting their goodbyes out the window, while the rest of them head back to Louis and Zayn's building. Louis is practically sleeping in Liam's arms when they get there, Zayn and Harry laughing quietly as Liam tries to hold Louis up, and open his apartment door at the same time. Then Zayn and Harry go to Zayn's apartment, and it's just them again. Harry suddenly feels a bit awkward, unsure of himself, as he looks around the place he's been to so many times before, but never after they took that next step. 

He decides to go to the couch because it's safest, but groans as he sits down on it, " _God_ , this couch is awful," he whines, moving a bit, trying to get comfortable. Zayn laughs at him as he shrugs off his jacket.

"It's not that bad."

"Yes, it is, it's all... lumpy," he slumps down, defeated. 

"Well, I'm sorry I can't afford a better couch, Your Highness," Zayn teases, and Harry would be mad at him, but Zayn was getting on his lap, and being mad could wait. 

"Nope, you should have thought better of the welfare of your guests," is what Harry goes for instead, and that gets a playful grin out of Zayn.

"Oh, I'm sorry, princeling," Zayn says, running his fingers through Harry's hair, moving closer to kiss his neck, "I can try and make it up to you, if you'd like."

Harry moves his hands from Zayn's hips to his waist, under his shirt, "And how would you do that?"

"I can think of a few ways..." Zayn bites Harry's earlobe, tugging on it lightly, then pulls away, "Stay here, take your clothes off," he says, gives Harry one quick peck on the lips, then he moves away, and disappears into his bedroom. Harry blinks a couple of times, then rushes to do as he was told, his blood quickly rushing down south at the possibilities. 

Zayn comes back a few moments later, gloriously naked, with a bottle of lube and a condom in hand, and oh god, he looks so good. Harry's breath leaves him all at once, and he just needs to grab himself tightly to calm down. Zayn gets back on Harry's lap, sets the condom aside, and pushes the lube onto Harry's hand.

"You're gonna _love_ this couch once I'm done riding you," Zayn says, so certain of himself, Harry nearly smacks him to stop him from being so smug. Except he's too busy trying not to pass out just from the thought of being inside Zayn.

And Zayn's right. He's so fucking right, because as Harry pushes up into Zayn, just as Zayn drops down, he can't think of another place he'd rather be. Harry is done for, completely done for, can't stop talking about how good Zayn feels, how fucking perfect it is, and that spurs Zayn on, makes Zayn go faster, grip Harry's hair tighter. Harry starts jerking him off in time with his thrusts, and Zayn's head fall back, so Harry just needs to lean in and lick up his neck, suck on it to taste his skin and mark him up, forgetting all about how he shouldn't, because Zayn isn't his, not really.

Except he's here right now, in Harry's arms, moaning so prettily, and that's all that matters.

Zayn comes a few seconds before Harry, and they ride it through it together, panting into each others mouths, clinging to each other. After a few seconds, Harry falls back against the couch, and Zayn rolls off of him and to his side, both of them looking happy and sated.

"So?" Zayn asks once their breathing goes back to normal, poking Harry's thigh with his foot.

Harry laughs, looking at him, and nods, "I love this couch."

 

They shower together after that, when their limbs start working again, then settle comfortably in Zayn's bed, holding each other close, Zayn petting Harry's hair, as Harry draws circles on the skin of Harry's waist. Harry is almost falling asleep, but he needs to know, or he will most likely go running for the hills in the morning.

"So we're doing this, then? I don't want to have to keep wondering how to be around you," he asks, looking up at Zayn. Zayn looks down at him, smiles, he couldn't say no even if he wanted to, even if he knows he should. It's clear now that they can't go back to just being friends after all of this.

"We can do this, if you want to," he says, instead of a clear _yes_ though, because he's still Zayn, he still has a foot out the door when he thinks there's a chance of him being kicked out.

"Do _you_ want to?" Harry presses, because he needs things to be clear, Harry is always better with clear instructions.

Zayn chews on his lip, insecure, but Harry is here, after fucking on his stupid lumpy couch, after showering in Zayn's tiny bathroom, that barely had room for the two of them. He's here, he's met Zayn's family, and treated them as his own. He's here, and Zayn can't think of a reason to be scared, so he nods.

"Yeah, I want to."

Harry grins, trying hard not to beam, and nods as well, "Good. I want it, too," he says, presses a kiss to Zayn's neck, and places his head back on Zayn's chest, the last thing he hears being a whispered "'night, princeling" into his hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and yeah, i changed my mind about this being the last chapter, after seeing your comments! you guys make me hella happy with each one of them, and make me keep going, so thank you! xx


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i haven't read this over to look for any mistakes, cause i just needed to post it as soon as i could. i hit the WORST writer's block ever.  
> but i hope you'll enjoy it either way! also, almost 300 kudos WTF! it's so good to know you guys have been enjoying this :)

They'd been "seeing each other" for almost a month now, and Harry thinks he's never had this much sex in his life. 

It's ridiculous, honestly, how they can't seem to keep their hands of each other. It's like once they got started, they can't stop. Just put the two of them together in a room, and see how long it takes for them to disappear. Louis says the longest they waited before going missing is 15 minutes and 34 seconds. They do it everywhere, in every single surface of Harry's place once, and everywhere twice on Zayn's apartment. They do it in the back of Harry's car, and on Zayn's tattooing bed. Harry takes Zayn to a party at the Peninsula Hotel, and convinces him that they should get a room for the night, and they fuck on expensive hotel sheets. Zayn takes Harry to a club in Brooklyn, and they fuck against dirty bathroom doors. 

It's amazing.

And it's not like it's just the sex, it's the little things too. 

They didn't really talk about it, it's just something that happened before they even noticed it. Zayn sometimes leaves things at Harry's place, things that end up in Harry's closet when people come over to clean and tidy everything up. Zayn doesn't kick and curse when Harry's alarm go off in the mornings, just gently squeezes Harry's side, before rolling to the other side, and sometimes even joins Harry in the shower before Harry needs to go to work.

Zayn sometimes joins Harry when he goes out to dinner with Anne and Robin, and Harry is almost always around when Zayn skypes his family, they're a team now, more than ever before. Sometimes they still fight when Harry takes Zayn out to expensive places and pays for everything, but Harry compromises by letting Zayn take him wherever he wants, no questions asked (and that's how one day he ends up on a karaoke bar in Bushwick on a Thursday, because Thursday is 80's day). 

They all drive up to the Hamptons for the 4th of July, Liam and Niall with their families, and Harry takes Zayn and Louis with him because his parents decided to take advantage of the holiday to go to Europe and visit Gemma. Zayn is not surprised to see that Harry's house is fucking huge. It's got rooms enough for the 5 of them (and Barbara), even if they decided to sleep on separate bedrooms, a tennis court, a pool, and a jacuzzi. 

They laze about in the sun, they drink too much, they eat too much, and they kiss under the fireworks at night. Liam steals Louis away when they decide to go home, takes him home with him, and they lose Niall and Barbara for a moment, before they get a text from Niall saying they found a party to go to, so when they get back, it's just Harry and Zayn. Harry decides to go for a swim, while Zayn watches from a chase lounge, beer in hand, looking a little bit sun burnt, and pleasantly buzzed.

"Aren't you going to join me?" Harry asks, a little sun burnt himself, but happy, happier than he'd been in a while now, happier than he ever thought he could be when all of this had started.

"Nuh-uh, too deep," Zayn says, shaking his head, but he's already half smiling. Harry hopes he's as happy as Harry is.

"Come on, it's not that deep. The water is so nice, come swim with me, Zayn," Harry pleads, already half pouting. Zayn's smile grows.

"Can't swim, babe, I told you."

"Pleeease?" Harry tries again, full on pouting now. Zayn stares. Then he rolls his eyes, sets the beer aside, and gets to his feet. Zayn starts taking his clothes off, gets down to his boxers, like Harry is. Harry beams. He watches as Zayn makes his way to the shallow end of the pool from where he is at the deep end, arms moving slowly underwater.

"There, I'm in the pool," Zayn says, walking until the water reaches his waist.

"Good, now come to me," Harry says, urging him to come closer with his hands.

Zayn shakes his head, points towards his feet, "No way,  _you_  come to me."

"Come on, Zayn, I got you, promise, come on," Harry pleads, looking at Zayn with what he hopes is a trustworthy look. Zayn glares at him, but starts making his way towards Harry, slowly. Harry start moving towards Zayn too, keeps his hands out in front of him for Zayn to hold on, which he does. They go deeper and deeper, until the water almost reaches Zayn's collarbones.

Zayn shakes his head, a panicky look in his eyes, but Harry just pulls him closer, wraps his arms around Zayn's waist. Harry takes a few more steps, then he stops, the two of them sort of standing, sort of floating, Zayn's hands in Harry's wet hair.

"See? I got you," Harry says, and Zayn kisses him, because there was nothing else he could do. He kisses Harry long, and deep, lifts his legs up to wrap them around Harry's hips.

Harry start moving them again, so he can press Zayn against the side of the pool, and suddenly the kiss isn't so slow and deep anymore, has more teeth to it, more gasps and roaming hands. Harry holds Zayn hip in one hand, and on to the edge of the pool with the other, uses his tight grip for leverage and they grind against one another. Zayn tugs on Harry's hair hard enough to make him tilt his head back, and starts nipping on the skin there, his other hand worming its way between them and into Harry's boxers.

Harry does the same, takes Zayn in his hand and starts stroking him, matching his rhythm. They're breathing into each other necks, Zayn's fingers curled tightly into Harry's hair, Harry still holding them up with a hand on the edge of the pool. 

"We should go inside," Harry pants after a few minutes, slowing down.

Zayn whines, shakes his head, "No, no, so close," he says, speeding up, trying to egg Harry on. Harry groans.

"Don't wanna come like this."

"How d'you wanna come?" Zayn asks, slowing down.

"Zaaayn," and it's Harry's turn to whine.

"Tell me, Harry, and we'll do it, tell me," he urges, threatening to stroke Harry faster again.

"Shit, wanna do it with you inside, yeah?" Harry says, rushed, "Wanna get on my hands and knees, want you to fuck me, you wanna fuck me?" he asks, in the filthiest way he knows how, will do pretty much anything to get Zayn going. Zayn inhales deeply, his head rolling back, like he's focusing on not coming right there and then.

"Oh god, come on, let's go, let's go," Zayn says when he seems to be a little bit more collected, and they stumble their way out of the pool and into their bedroom. They're dripping wet when they make it to bed, but Harry couldn't care less, because Zayn is suddenly flipping him over, forcing him on his stomach and reminding Harry that Zayn's smaller frame doesn't mean shit, that he's strong, all muscle all over.

Zayn pulls Harry's boxers off, and leans in, bites from the back of Harry's thigh, all the way up to the small of his back, making Harry squirm. He suddenly leaves, then, probably to get the lube and a condom, and it seems like he's gone forever, so Harry gets on his knees, on hand on the mattress, the other curled around his cock, starts stroking himself just to take the edge off. 

Then Zayn is suddenly back, delivering a sharp slap to Harry's ass, "No touching," he says, but Harry can barely hear it, his surprised gasp sounding so loud in the otherwise quiet house. Surprised that Zayn spanked him, and surprised that he actually liked it, his body jolting with it. He places his hand back on the mattress, holds on to the sheets. Zayn, always so attentive, doesn't miss the way Harry's body reacted to it.

"You liked that?" Zayn asks, rubbing his palm over Harry's ass cheek, his voice laced with curiosity and mischief. 

Harry shakes his head and shrugs at the same time, "I don't know, I must have," he says, still feels his skin tingling.

"Want me to do it again?"

"Yeah, do it," he nods, and Zayn does, hits the other cheek now, and yep, Harry definitely likes it, if the sound he let out is anything to go by.

"Well, aren't you a kinky little prince," Zayn muses, using his favorite teasing nickname.

Harry let's out a shaky laugh, "Fuck you," he says, and Zayn laughs as well.

"Tsc, such poor manners for a princeling," he teases, but Harry hears the sound of the lube cap being opened, so he doesn't really care. 

Zayn opens him up as carefully as always, and it's driving Harry crazy because this is not what he wants, he wants hard and fast, wants Zayn to maybe spank him a little bit more and pull on his hair.

"Hurry up, come on, I'm good," he pants, pushes back harder against Zayn's hand.

"Yeah?" Zayn asks, and slowly pulls out his fingers, Harry's body thrumming with anticipation as he hears the condom wrapper being ripped open. "Is this what you want?" he asks, rubbing the tip of his cock against Harry's rim, but not pushing in yet.

"Yes, I want it, give it to me, come on," Harry whines, tries pushing back against him, but Zayn just holds him still. He keeps teasing Harry, moves a hand up Harry's back all the way to his hair, tangling his fingers in it. And just as he gets a good grip on it, he pushes in swiftly, hard, punches the air out of Harry. 

"Like this?" Zayn asks, pulling out only to push back in just as hard. Harry moans shamelessly, arches his back for Zayn, eyes blissfully fluttering shut.

"Yeah, just like that,  _fuck_."

Zayn leans forward to prop a hand by Harry's side, and starts fucking into Harry relentlessly, drives him crazy with how he doesn't settle for a rhythm, going with short and sharp thrusts, than slow and deep, angling his hips  _just_  right. Harry is moaning, probably saying shit he can't even hear, he's getting too close, too fast, and doesn't even try to stop it. Then Zayn is settling on his knees again behind him, and ordering "Give me your hands," and Harry knows he couldn't stop it if he tried.

He does as he is told, reaching back, and Zayn holds his hands against the small of his back. Harry's face is pressed against the bed, he's sweating, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and Zayn keeps going, uses the hold he has on Harry's hands for leverage, pulls Harry back as he pushes forward, and it only takes a few more thrusts for him to come all over himself and the sheets with a loud cry.

Zayn flips him back around then, Harry more pliant than ever, and still feeling the aftershocks of his orgasm, as he watches Zayn take the condom off. Zayn leans over Harry and kisses him, starts fisting himself, his other hand already tangled in Harry's hair. Harry tries his best to kiss back, but he's too fucked out already, so he settles for trying to urge Zayn on with his words, starts whispering all the filthy things Zayn seems to love to hear him say, until Zayn is coming too, all over him, with a shudder and a gasp.

Zayn brings his hand up to Harry's face, and watches with a smirk as Harry licks his fingers clean.  _I think I might love you_ , Harry thinks, in this less than romantic moment, but doesn't say a thing. He just smiles, and cups Zayn's neck, pulling him down for a kiss. They kiss and kiss, slow and lazy, sated and sleepy now. After that, they shower together, and they don't really talk, relaxed as they get ready for bed, curling around each other on one of the spare bedrooms, too tired to change the sheets.

"Did you have fun?" Harry asks around a yawn, stroking Zayn's side with his fingertips.

"Yeah, this was fun," Zayn says, and presses a kiss to the top of Harry's head.

"Good."

***

They drive back to the city after lunch the next day, Niall and Barbara sleeping away their hangovers in the back seat, while Louis drives back with Liam. Harry drops Zayn off at his place, kisses him goodbye with a smile, and goes back home, after dropping Niall and Barbara off as well. Harry spends the rest of the day getting some work done, answering some clients' e-mails, and gets ready for Monday.

Robin won't be back until Wednesday, which means Harry's in charge. Robin asked him as a favor, but Harry knows he's being tested, and is determined to show he can be trusted. So he dives in head first, and for the next few days, he lives and breathes his work. He talks to Zayn on the phone, but doesn't go out to meet him, exhausted by the time he gets home.

On Wednesday, just as Harry is about to leave, Robin calls him into his office, and Harry is nervous. Robin, always so very polite, thanks Harry for his work, and congratulates him at last, says he's not even surprised at how good Harry did. Harry tries his best to keep his excitement down, at least in front of Robin, but doesn't think twice before going straight to Zayn's place. They fuck twice that night to celebrate.

After passing the tiny test, Robin seems to be giving Harry more important tasks every day, so Harry isn't really surprised when a month later, Robin asks him to go to London to meet with a potential client, not really, but he is nervous. He'll be going on his own, the fate of the deal resting in his hands. Zayn goes with him to the airport, and gives him some last words of encouragement, tells him he'll be here to celebrate the new account when Harry comes back.

Preston hugs him goodbye too, says "Go get'em, boss," with a pat on Harry's back, then he's off. 

 

After an endless and boring flight, Harry gets to London. He goes straight to the hotel for a bath, and texts the guys back home to tell him he got there safely. Then, he gets to work. He researches the company, and it's owners, reads the papers Robin sent him, over and over until he's memorized every single detail. When he goes to bed, Harry feels like he's ready.

He can do this.

Or maybe not. 

Harry's in London for 3 weeks now, and he hasn't sealed the deal yet. He's already made friends with the doorman, the concierge, the ladies from the front desk, already has a favorite restaurant, and he still hasn't been able to get the guy to sign the contract. He refuses to call home and talk to Robin until he's got some good news. And to make matters worse, it's been almost two weeks since he last spoke to Zayn. 

Zayn hasn't been answering his texts, hasn't been calling, and yeah, Harry knows the time difference sucks, but surely he could've texted him back when he woke up or something. All of the boys have been able to, so why doesn't say something? When Harry asks the other boys if they know what's going on, none of them say anything clear, they don't give him a proper answer.

After another week of trying, he gives up and tries to focus on the job at hand, so he can just come home. 

And then, 2 lunch dates, and 3 dinners later, he finally succeeds. Harry's ecstatic, wants to go out and celebrate, but first, he calls Robin.

"Took you long enough, uh?" he says when Harry tells him, but he's laughing, so Harry doesn't take it to heart. 

"He was a tough one, I'll give you that," Harry says, picking out an outfit to go out with a group of friends he's made in the meantime.

"Already knew that, that's why I sent you," Robin admits with a chuckle, "Now come home so we can celebrate, alright? Your mother misses you like crazy. We can all go out to dinner once you're here. Celebrate the deal, and being single again, yeah?" he says, and Harry freezes.

"What?"

There's silence for a second, then, "Didn't Mr. Malik tell you? He signed the papers already, all you have to do is come home and sign them as well."

"He... signed the papers already?" Harry is still frozen on the spot.

"He did. Everything's ready to go back to normal when you come back." Someone calls Robin, probably his secretary, and he says a 'be right there,', before speaking to Harry again, "I've got to go, but we'll be waiting for you, ok? Good job, Harry." 

And then he hangs up.

Zayn signed the papers. He signed the fucking papers and didn't even think to tell Harry about it? What the fuck?

And then it clicks.

Zayn's done with him. He did what he needed to do for as long as he needed, and now that the contract was over, he was over Harry too. Harry feels so foolish. Foolish for letting himself feel all those things, for believing Zayn might have been feeling them too, for opening up like that.

He thinks about calling Zayn, about screaming at him, about telling him to go fuck himself, even though Harry never really cursed at anyone, but chances are, Zayn wouldn't even pick up the phone, wouldn't even give him the satisfaction of being mad at him.

Well, fuck that.

Harry sticks with his plan. He showers, gets dressed, and goes out. He talks to interesting people, to people who are interested in him, he drinks, and dances with strangers. And if he instagrams a picture of himself at the club later that night, and captions it with "Single again, and it feels so good," well, who would blame him?

At least that way he can try and pretend his heart isn't breaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment and let me know what you think is going to happen next! :D


	9. Chapter 9

So, that was it.

It ended as swiftly as it had started. Harry went back to New York, signed the divorce papers, and then it was over. Officially. Zayn's things weren't in his apartment anymore, and the things Harry had left at Zayn's, were sitting in a box on the floor. Harry wanted to cry. And to break something. To punch Zayn square in that perfect face of his. 

But he didn't.

He picked the box up instead, took it to his room, and put everything in its rightful place. He sat down on his bed, screamed into a pillow, and fell asleep, letting his jet lag take over him. When he woke up the next day, he contemplated staying in bed. Robin said he didn't need to go to work if the jet lag was still bad, but. Staying in bed only meant he'd have too much time alone with his thoughts, and his head wasn't a very nice place at the moment. So he did what he knew best: he got up, got dressed, and got to work.

Harry did that for the next four months, being one of the first ones to get to the office, and one of the last to leave. He was responsible for closing accounts with clients in Japan, Germany and Spain. Harry became a proper workaholic, which cost him part of his relationship with the boys. They didn't see each other all that much anymore, most of their contact being made through phone calls or text messages, though they do get together to celebrate when Niall and Barbara found out they were having a baby.

And by  _they_ , Harry means Niall, Barbara, and Liam. Louis doesn't come around anymore when the guys see each other - even though it only happens once in a blue moon - and Harry doesn't ask about it. He doesn't care, doesn't want to know. The less he knows about Zayn, the better. Except not asking about it doesn't stop him from learning Zayn has moved to Manhattan, because he moved into an apartment with Louis, and if Louis is involved, Liam is talking about it. 

The two of them bought a place with the money Louis had saved up, and the money he got from his arrangement with Robin, using the space downstairs for their tattoo parlor, and the space upstairs as their home. They're doing good, from what Liam says, and there's a small part of Harry that is happy for Zayn, for him succeeding and all that, but there's another part, a huge one, that hates knowing he's doing good with the money he got from using Harry.

Still, Harry missed Zayn. Every fucking day. It hurt just thinking about him, and yet, he couldn't stop. There was always something that reminded him of Zayn, whether it was a song, or a joke, or a sudden flash of black hair among the crowd as he walked through Manhattan. Harry tried to forget it, to meet someone new, but it all felt so wrong. He didn't like the feel of other people's hands on him, didn't like their voices as they whispered into his ear, so he didn't let them touch him, gave up on trying to find someone to take Zayn's place when he clearly wasn't ready to give that spot to anyone else.

He became numb.

Everyone else was worried about him, tried talking him out of his funk, but it only upset Harry even more. He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to feel like that anymore, he just wanted to be left alone.  So eventually, they left him alone. Harry's never felt this empty before. He still kept up with his social obligations, still went to fashion shows, and parties, smiled at all the right moments and talked to all the right people, but inside, he didn't feel a thing.

And no one noticed.

***

Christmas was always Harry's favorite time of the year. All the presents, and the way the city lit up, the snow, he just loved it. So he really was in good spirits, a lot better than he'd been in a really long time. It was December 19th, and he had just gotten home after doing some Christmas shopping, when the call came. Like, literally, he had just stepped through the door, when his phone rang in his pocket, and he had to do some weird juggle to get it out without dropping all his bags. 

Harry was expecting a call from work, so he didn't even check the caller ID, before going "Yes?" closing the door behind him with his foot.

" _Harry?_ " the voice says, and Harry freezes. That voice, the one he had been waiting to hear for so long, and the one he never wanted to hear again. " _Harry, you there?_ " Harry blinks a couple of times, then shakes himself out of it.

"Yes, I'm here." 

He drops the bags to the ground, and starts pacing around the living room, what the fuck could Zayn want after all this time? The other end of the line is quiet for a few seconds, and Harry starts getting restless.

" _How have you been?_ " Zayn asks. He sounds uncomfortable. Unsure. Good, Harry thinks.

 _I feel like dying, how about you?_   "I'm great. You?" Harry asks, and forces himself to sit down.

" _Good, good._ " There's a pause, and Harry can practically picture Zayn standing in his living room, his old one, because Harry has no idea how his new one looks, sees Zayn scratching the back of his neck. " _I've got a favor to ask you._ "

Oh, now you have a favor to ask? Fuck you.

"Oh?"

" _Yeah. So. Hm. I know you probably don't even want to see me, but here's the thing. I'm going home for Christmas_."

"....And?"

" _And I may have never actually told my mom we were through, and--_ "

"Why didn't you tell her, Zayn?!"

" _I don't know! She was just so happy the last time, and she really liked you, Harry, I didn't want to upset her, I guess,_ " Zayn says, sounding a bit defeated.

"Zayn..."

" _Listen, you don't know what it was like for her, ok? The kind of guys I used to bring home. She was happy to see me with someone who's nice, for once._ " He pauses again, like he's waiting for Harry to say something, but keeps going when Harry doesn't say anything. " _She asked if you were coming with me._ "

"I don't think that's a good idea," Harry says, shaking his head. No, no, no. This is not a good idea.

" _Harry, please. Just. Just for a few days, please. Just this once. Please?_ "

Harry breathes in deeply, rubs the crease between his eyebrows. 

"When are you going?"

" _The 21st_."

"Fine. I'll get us tickets," Harry says, shaking his head at himself, already knows he'll regret this.

" _I already have a ticket-_ " Zayn starts, but Harry cuts him off.

"I'm not flying coach. I'll text you the details, and we'll meet up at the airport. The flight will be long enough for us to work out the details, yes?"

" _Hm, I guess--_ "

"So that's settled. See you in two days, then." And then he hangs up before he can say something he'll regret.

 

Harry fusses over everything for the next two days. He sends out the gifts he's bought, buy presents for Zayn's family and for Zayn himself because it's the polite thing to do, and then he buys himself some clothes because shopping always calms him. He arranges tickets for the two of them on the last flight out on the 21st, and texts Zayn to tell him when to meet. When he's not getting ready for their trip, he's working, always keeping himself busy so he won't freak out even further about seeing Zayn again, about playing couple once more.

On the 21st, Harry goes to work, tries to do his best to get things done for the days to come, even though he'll be taking his laptop with him. After work he goes to his mother's home to say goodbye and wish her a happy Christmas, then goes home to pack his bags. Once he's done with that, he gets ready to go to the airport, just puts on a simple shirt and some jeans, doesn't want to look like he's trying to hard to impress Zayn, even though he really wants to.

He checks his bags once more, makes sure he isn't forgetting any presents, and when the time comes, he calls Preston to pick him up. Harry puts on a long blue coat, ties his hair up in a bun, and grabs a red scarf, then he's out the door. Preston is pretty much quiet throughout the whole ride, for which Harry is thankful. He knows Harry is nervous, so he doesn't really push. They say their goodbyes after Preston has helped Harry with his bags, and now Harry just needs to wait.

He checks in, goes through the whole process with his bags, and sits down, waiting for Zayn, and their flight. The airport is already starting to get a little crazy, with everyone trying to go out to visit their loved ones, so Harry plugs in his earphones and presses play on whatever song he's got lined up. He doesn't know for how long he keeps waiting, but it's enough for him to fall asleep right there on the airport chair.

Harry wakes up to someone poking his shoulder, and he trashes around a little bit before remembering where he is. When he looks up, Zayn's there, looking every bit as perfect as Harry remembers, in a comfy red hoodie and loose pants. Zayn smiles sheepishly at him, and Harry blinks, needs to remember that he's not supposed to melt for that smile. He straightens up, and gets to his feet, stuffing his earphones in his pockets.

"Sorry, traffic..." Zayn says, rubbing the back of his neck. Harry shakes his head, shrugs. His heart feels like it's gonna explode, but he thinks he hides it well.

"It's ok. Is it time to go already?"

"Yeah, we should probably-" Zayn nods towards their gate, saying they should probably get going, and they walk together awkwardly. 

Zayn seems uncomfortable as they take their seats in first class, but Harry doesn't mention it. They agree on waiting for the plane to take off to talk about the details, get their story straight, so they just sit there in silence as the stewardess gives them their flight instructions. Once the plane starts to take off, Zayn grips the armrest tightly, and Harry just looks at him. Zayn's nervous, not just awkward anymore, and then it hits him that Zayn's afraid of flying.

Zayn's not looking at him, focusing hard on the chair in front of him, and Harry feels like wrapping his arms around Zayn, and promising him he's safe. He doesn't, though. Harry reaches for him, places his hand on Zayn's wrist, touches the back of Zayn's hand with his thumb, rubbing it gently. He looks out the window, so he doesn't see the look on Zayn's face, but he feels Zayn relaxing under his touch, and Harry needs to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling. 

Once the plane is up in the air, Harry places his hand back on his lap, tries to pretend like his skin isn't still on fire from where he touched Zayn. He clears his throat, shifts in his seat for a bit, then looks at Zayn. 

"So, let's get out story straight."

"Right. So. What have you been up to?" Zayn asks, turning to face Harry as well.

"I've been working. A lot. Robin's been sending me everywhere, we've been getting a lot of new clients. There's really not much to say, I've just... been working," Harry shrugs, and he really hates himself for sounding so lame, but. Well, it's the truth. "You?" Harry asks, as if he doesn't already know what Zayn's been doing. Zayn tells him about moving to Manhattan, and how crazy it's been, owning his own business, and even crazier, living with Louis. They trade stories about costumers, remarkable tattoos Zayn's done, and different places Harry's been to. 

They come up with stories for how they've been dealing with their new routines, talk for what it feels like hours, until they agree they've got it all figured out. Harry decides to take a nap then, tired from an entire day of work, and mentally exhausted from seeing Zayn again. The next time he wakes up, is by Zayn shaking him gently.

"We're here," Zayn says. Harry blinks, and straightens up when he realizes he's been sleeping on Zayn's shoulder.

"Right, sorry," he says, and tries to act cool about it. Zayn doesn't mention anything.

They're silent as they go through baggage claim, and they're silent as they take a cab to Zayn's family home. "You ready?" Zayn asks when they pull over, and Harry nods, even if he needs to take a deep breath first. "Alright, let's do this," Zayn nods as well, as steps out of the cab, after paying for the ride. Harry steps out after him, at takes a look at his house. 

It's a simple home, big enough for all of them to live in, but it's simple, stretched out in one floor only. It's got a nice yard, and a few trees in front of it, a few lights are on, including the one on the porch. Harry turns to get his bags from the cab, and just as he starts walking with Zayn towards the front door, it springs open, Zayn's mom popping out with a smile on her face.

"You're here!" she says, the smile on her face so big, it makes Harry smile as well. She walks to them and hugs them both at the same time, Zayn's sisters soon joining them, bringing all of them in a tight hug. 

"Alright, alright, let us breathe!" Zayn laughs as they pull apart. 

"Sorry, sorry," Trisha says, but her smile never leaves her face. She ushers them inside, and Harry doesn't even have time to be nervous, the Malik women fussing over them, asking them questions, until Zayn tells them they need to settle in first, then they can talk. He leads them to his old bedroom, and closes the door behind him, taking a look around.

"It's not much, but... It's home," he says, and shrugs. Harry can tell he's nervous, always is when it comes to their obvious money differences. Zayn's room is probably even smaller than Harry's entertainment room, but Harry doesn't mind. What he actually minds, is the warm feeling he's getting just by being there, in this place that is so personal. Zayn's walls are covered in band posters, and superhero posters, there's a twin bed in the corner, a table that's covered in papers with sketches, as if Zayn had never left.

"No graffiti on the walls?" Harry says to break the ice, and Zayn chuckles.

"Mom would kill me if I put graffiti on her walls," he says, and stares at Harry for a few seconds. "Thanks for doing this," he says at last. Harry just shakes his head.

"Don't mention it," Harry forces himself to smile, and everything feels so weird. Harry still can't believe that this Zayn gave up on him without a word, or a look back. His whole body screams to reach out and touch Zayn. Harry wonders if Zayn feels the same need, or if Harry is just a prop, again. Thinking about that hurts, so Harry forces himself to stop. They set their bags aside, take off their coats, and ready themselves to face the Maliks again. 

It takes them about 30 minutes, but they get manage to get into their roles, sitting next to each other in the living room, Harry's arm around Zayn's shoulder, Zayn's hand on Harry's knee. They tell their stories together, Harry sometimes butting in when Zayn is saying something, remembering the details Zayn told him on the way there, and Zayn does the same. Harry meets Zayn's father, and smiles as Yaser tells him about how Zayn was like growing up, lets himself forget that none of this is real. Zayn either forgets it as well, or just plays along, because he smiles too, and hides his face on Harry's neck when Yaser tells them a particularly embarrassing story.

It only gets weird again when it's time to go to bed, and they're all alone again. They take turns using the shower, and settle down on Zayn's bed, back to back. Zayn thanks him again for doing this, and Harry just pretends to be asleep.

***

The next few days go by quickly, and Harry feels himself falling for Zayn once again, or even more, he doesn't know if he ever stopped loving him in the first place. He's fucked, he knows, but he tries not to think about it. Zayn shows him around, introduces Harry to his childhood friends, takes Harry to places he used to go to when he was younger, and Harry tucks away every single story Zayn tells him. Harry knows he's being stupid, letting his guard down like that, but he can't help it. It's just so easy to forget he was angry once, when Zayn is opening up to Harry like that, and they're always touching, sometimes even kissing when strangers or Zayn's family are around.

On the 24th Zayn and Harry set their presents by the Christmas tree (the only reason why they do Christmas in the Malik household), they skype Louis to wish him a happy birthday (Louis gives them a weird look when he sees Harry's there, but doesn't say anything), then they spend the rest of the day playing in the snow with Zayn's sisters. Or, Harry plays, while Zayn complains about the cold, and sometimes shoots snow balls at them from a safe distance.

On Christmas day they all eat together, exchange gifts, and Harry ends up wearing a sweater Zayn's mother knit for him (doesn't really go with his outfit, but it's comfy and it smells all home-y, so Harry loves it), and it's all really good. That is, until Zayn's family decides to go visit a few friends. Zayn's taking a nap, stuffed from eating too much, and Harry chooses to get some work done. He settles on the dinner table, and works for about an hour, until he realizes there's not much to be done.

He goes to the kitchen instead, and starts cleaning it up, puts things in the washing machine, stuffs some things in the fridge, and turns the coffee maker on. He waits for the coffee to be done, arms around himself, all cozy in his new sweater, when he feels Zayn's arms around him. It doesn't even startle him, already used to it again. He feels Zayn pressing his lips to the back of his neck, and it takes a sigh out of him, until he remembers that they're alone, so there's no reason for Zayn to be doing this.

Harry pulls away, and turns around to look at Zayn, "What are you doing?"

Zayn seems to be confused, "What do you mean, what am I doing?"

"There's no one else around, so why are you doing this?" Harry says, gesturing between the two of them. Zayn's eyes widen, he looks surprised and still a bit confused.

"I just--we, I don't-"

"We can't do this, alright? We can't, it won't end well," Harry shakes his head, and runs a hand through his hair.

"I know, I  _know_ , I just... I miss you, alright?" Zayn says, throwing his hands up.

"And who's to blame for that?! You're the one who signed the divorce papers!" Harry raises his voice without even meaning to, but honestly, is Zayn for real right now?

"Of course I signed them, I was angry at you! Didn't even have the guts to deliver them to my face, had to send some stupid ass lawyer while you were hiding in London!" Zayn screams back.

"What?! I didn't send anyone, I was fucking working! Then you fucking disappeared, and then I call Robin, and surprise! Zayn signed the papers and fucked off the face of the Earth!" Harry screams as well, speaks faster than ever. He can feel his face is warm, knows he's flushed from all the anger, and he's breathing hard. Zayn just stares at him like he's crazy.

"You... Cursed," he says at last, shocked. Harry wants to punch him.

"Of course I cursed, do you have any idea how furious I am? How shitty I felt?! I was so fucking in love with you, and you just left me!" Harry says before he can stop himself, before he even realizes what he's saying, then he does, and he covers his mouth with his hand, eyes wide. Zayn's expression mirrors his, and he just blinks. 

And then, all of the sudden, Zayn starts laughing, and shaking his head, "Oh my god, we're so stupid. We're so fucking stupid,  _holy shit_." He keeps laughing. Harry thinks he's entered a parallel universe where no one makes sense. 

"Are you out of your mind?"

Zayn looks at Harry again, and shakes his head fondly. He launches for Harry, takes his head in both hands, and kisses him, just this insistent pressing of lips, and Harry still has no idea what is going on. Zayn looks at Harry when he pulls away, "I am  _so_  sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry for being scared, and rushing things, once again," he lets go of Harry's face, but holds on to his hips, so Harry won't go anywhere. "I thought you had sent me the papers, that you were trying to ditch me, so I just-I let you. I said  _fuck it, fuck him_ , and signed it, because I thought you didn't want me anymore. I was just so hurt, I didn't think straight, and... fuck, I'm so sorry."

Harry stares at Zayn, blinks in silence, trying to figure out if he had actually heard everything right, then he snaps.

"Why do you always have to do that!?" he pokes at Zayn's chest, hard enough to have him taking a step back, "Why do you always jump to conclusions and push me away!?" he pokes again, and Zayn steps back once more, "I hate you  _so_  much, I swear to god!" And then he kisses Zayn, hard, so hard that Zayn tumbles back against the fridge with a thud, but he doesn't let up, keeps kissing Zayn until the shock wears off, and he starts kissing back.

It's frantic right from the start, teeth and tongue, Zayn's hands tight in Harry's hair, Harry lifting Zayn off the ground and pressing him against the fridge, Zayn's legs around his waist. Harry has no idea how he's gone without kissing Zayn, really kissing him, and not just the friendly pecks they've been giving each other for the past few days, but he doesn't plan on stopping ever again.

That is until Zayn starts tugging at Harry's clothes, and he remembers they're on Zayn's parents' kitchen, then he pulls away, panting, and shakes his head, "Let's go to your room," he says, and starts easing Zayn to the ground again. 

Zayn whines low in his throat, still pawing at Harry's clothes, "Too far," he says, but starts walking when Harry keeps pushing him towards his bedroom. Harry chuckles against Zayn's neck, the two of them stumbling as they walk.

"Wanna fuck you in that tiny bed of yours," Harry says, closing Zayn's bedroom door behind them.

Zayn snorts, "Forgot Your Highness likes big fancy things," he teases, pressing Harry against the door, and goes back to kissing him. Harry remembers to lock the door behind him, just in case, and then everything goes.

They're already naked by the time they reach the bed, and Harry has Zayn on his back, moving down Zayn's body sucking marks onto his skin just because he can. He takes Zayn into his mouth as he opens him up with slick fingers. Zayn holds Harry's hair back in both hands so he can watch how Harry's red lips look wrapped around his cock, as Harry moves his head up and down, until he can't anymore, Harry's fingers pressing insistently inside him, Zayn's head dipping back in pleasure.

Zayn makes Harry stop before he ends up coming, and rolls a condom on Harry's cock, stroking him a few times to spread lube over it. Harry settles between Zayn's legs, hooking an arm under Zayn's leg and pushing it up as he pushes in, slow but deep, the two of them groaning together. Harry stays still as Zayn adjusts, burying his face in Zayn's neck until Zayn tells him to  _just fucking move, already_ , so he does, pulling almost all the way out, then pushing back in.

"Fuck," Harry gasps, moving deep and languid still, fingertips pressing hard on Zayn's skin.

"Good?" Zayn asks, bites at Harry's earlobe.

Harry nods, moans, "So good." He pulls away to look at Zayn, half smirking, half just stupidly smiling because he just can't believe how this all turned out. Zayn holds Harry's hair back in one hand, and grips Harry's ass with the other, pulling him in even deeper.

"Fuck, fuck," he grunts as Harry picks his pace up, "Did you miss me? Tell me, Harry--oh  _god_ ," he moans and dips his head back again when Harry changes his angle just so.

"Yeah," Harry breathes out, "I missed you so fucking much, shit," he starts moving faster, harder, threading his fingers through Zayn's hair and tugging on it, propping his other hand on the mattress for leverage. Zayn holds on to the headboard with both hands, and plants his feet on the bed, starts pushing up against Harry, moving with him. "Look at me," Harry pants, tugging on Zayn's hair for him to focus. Zayn looks at him, and he swears Harry's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. His hair is wild, sweat gathering at his hairline, his cheeks are flushed, his mouth is bitten red, and Zayn doesn't want to go a day without him, ever again.

Zayn holds on to the back of Harry's neck, fingers curling into his hair, holding him close, "Don't you ever leave me again," he says, looking deep into Harry's eyes. Harry nods, licks his lips, and Zayn just needs to kiss him, so he does, moaning into Harry's mouth. "Promise me," he says when he pulls away, and Harry nods again.

"I won't leave," Harry says, tugs Zayn's lip between his teeth, sucks on it, and moves faster.

The headboard keeps banging against the wall, it's too hot, they can't stop, and soon Zayn's coming between them with Harry fucking him hard and fast, whispering filth in his ear just like he loves it. Harry follows him soon after, buried deep inside him, his name tumbling from Harry's lips. They're sweaty and breathing hard, and Zayn's bed isn't big enough for the two of them to sprawl comfortably, but they don't care.

Harry tosses the condom into the bin, and cleans them up with one of their shirts, before cuddling close. They lay together in silence, just touching each other lazily, until Harry leans in, kissing Zayn softly on the lips.

"If we're going to give this another go, you can't keep doing that. You need to trust me when I say I want you, that I want to be with you. You need to stop cutting me off before hearing me out. Okay?" Harry says, carding his fingers through Zayn's hair.

Zayn nods, moving his hand up and down Harry's side. "I'm sorry, again. I won't do it anymore, promise," he says. Harry nods, and kisses Zayn again. "I really missed you too," Zayn says, curling closer, pressing his head against Harry's chest. Harry smiles, and kisses the top of Zayn's head.

"It'll be easier now, with you living in Manhattan and all," Harry says, and Zayn just nods, starting to drift off. Harry chuckles, and shakes him a bit, "Can't sleep now, we need to shower and get dressed for when your family comes back." Zayn whines, and shakes his head.

"Just five more minutes," he says, hugging Harry tighter.

"Uh-uhn, you won't wake up later if I let you fall asleep, come on."

Harry disentangles them, and drags them both to the bathroom. It's small, but they manage to shower together without any major injuries. They get dressed later, and settle down on the couch for a nap. It takes Harry a bit longer to fall asleep, as he starts to think about everything that had happened that afternoon. He feels lighter, and yet so full, filled with love and relief. He briefly wonders when he became this sappy. When they wake up again, is to the sounds of the Malik family coming home, as Trisha and Doniya coo at them. 

They have a nice family dinner, all of them gathered together since is Harry's and Zayn's last night there. They talk, and laugh, and Harry and Zayn can't keep their hands off each other. Later that night, they kiss until they fall asleep, and kiss some more when they wake up, before they even get up to brush their teeth. They say goodbye to Zayn's family when it's time to go, after they've packed their bags into the cab, and walk hand in hand through the airport, Harry kissing Zayn's nerves away as the plane takes off. 

They go straight to Zayn's apartment when they reach New York, and Harry doesn't go back home for the next three days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guuuys, i'm amazed at the kudos and hit count on this one! it always warms my heart to see you guys enjoying it, and i love reading your comments, you're amazing! <3  
> getting close to the end, just one more chapter to go! let me know what you think xx


	10. Chapter 10

"Babe...Come on, babe, you've got to wake up," Harry says, running a hand up and down Zayn's side, kissing his shoulder. Zayn doesn't say anything, nothing that makes sense, anyway, and Harry rolls his eyes. "You need to walk Arya to school, come on, up, up!" he pats Zayn's ass a couple of times, and gets out of bed to pick a tie for himself. Zayn grunts, rolls around for a bit, then sits up, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand sleepily.

"Why do I have to do this, again?" Zayn asks, and yawns.

Harry laughs, fixing the tie around his neck, and looks at Zayn through the mirror, "You do this five days a week, I don't know why it's a surprise to you every morning." Harry grabs his suit, and puts it on, turning around to look at Zayn, "She's already dressed, her backpack is ready, and she's just finishing her breakfast. I'm picking her up after work, and we're going shopping for tonight's party. Preston is bringing our suits later, yeah?" he says, and walks to the bed, leaning in to press his lips to Zayn's. "Good morning," he smiles.

Zayn smiles back, kisses Harry once more, "Morning, babe. Go on, get to work," it's Zayn's turn to give Harry a friendly slap, already getting up.

"Alright, see you tonight," Harry says, and goes downstairs as Zayn goes to the bathroom. When he gets to the kitchen, Arya is still there in her little chair, holding her little apple juice cup in both hands as she drinks. Arya is five, and is the most brilliant thing Harry's ever seen, if he's being honest. Harry and Zayn adopted her when she was barely two, a year after they got married again. She's got sparkly blue eyes, and straight light brown hair, with light freckles over her nose. She's very talkative, likes to move her hands around as she speaks, and loves getting people's attention. She's never had problems sharing her toys with any of her friends, and she loves both getting dolled up,  _and_  making a mess with her paints and crayons, much to Harry's and Zayn's happiness.

"Hey, baby," Harry says when he approaches her, "daddy's going to work, but he'll pick you up later today, ok?" he says, crouching down to be at her eye level. She smiles, and nods, setting her cup down, and reaching for him, asking for a hug, like she does every morning. Harry obliges, like every morning, and kisses her cheek.

"We buying my pretty dress today, daddy?" she asks excitedly, big blue eyes shining, grinning.

"Yes, baby, after school, okay?" he says, grinning back, and she nods. "Be good today, baba is coming down soon to take you." As soon as he says it, Zayn shows up, wearing jeans, a sweater, and a beanie, still sleepy-looking, but at least he's out of bed. "There he is! Coffee is ready, I'm gonna go now." He kisses Arya one, two, three more times before letting her go, then he kisses Zayn again, and with that, he's out the door.

***

Harry had a plan, six years ago. A plan that most certainly did not include getting drunkenly married in Vegas, being forced to pretend to be married to a stranger, and falling in love with this stranger in the meantime. His plan also did not include divorcing said stranger, to get married to him again a year later, to move in with him, and adopt a child together.

No, his plan was to go to school, graduate, start working for Robin, and to make his way up in the company (aaand maybe to get Matt to come out of the closet). And yet, somehow, this was so much better than anything he had planned out. Sure, he did go to school, he graduated, started working for Robin, and made his way up in the company, but now he has a husband, and a daughter.

And he's happy, he's  _so_  happy. 

Zayn was the one who proposed to him again. They'd gone to a party one night, one from Harry's friends from Columbia, almost 9 months after they'd gotten together again, at Zayn's family home. They'd been drinking, and talking to everyone Harry knew, Zayn was already used to all of it by now, already used to Harry being the social butterfly that he was, to the big parties and fancy homes.

Harry had seen Matt somewhere around there, even talked to him at some point, while he was getting himself a drink, but it didn't even matter anymore, like who the fuck was Matt? At least that what it was like for him, he didn't have eyes for anyone else in the room, but for Zayn. Zayn, on the other hand, had other things in mind, apparently, maybe because he wasn't as tipsy as Harry, and was more aware of his surroundings. 

"He's looking at you again," he whispered in Harry's ear. Harry looked at him, confused.

"Who is?"

"Fucking Matt. When will he give up?" He sounded annoyed. Harry still didn't understand, because who the fuck cares?

"It doesn't matter, he's old news, ignore him," Harry said, throwing his arms around Zayn's middle, and nuzzling his neck. Zayn wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder, moved a hand up to his hair, and held on to it tightly, the way he knows it makes Harry's body shiver.

"Maybe he needs to be reminded that you're mine now," he whispered again, and nibbled on Harry's earlobe. Harry doesn't know what Zayn means by that, but he's totally on board already. When he pulled away, Zayn was smirking at him, and  _yes_ , Harry likes that. Zayn made a show of kissing Harry as dirty as he could, and then lead Harry out of the room with a hand stuffed in Harry's back pocket, dragging him into the bathroom.

Zayn pushed Harry against the door, and kissed him again, filthy and amazing, not for too long, but long enough to have Harry panting and half hard in his jeans already, before pulling away, and flipping Harry around, making him brace himself on the edge of the sink. He kissed and bit on the back of Harry's neck, as his fingers worked on Harry's button and fly, Harry watching him on the mirror in front of them, getting harder by the second.

"Do you think your friend has anything here?" Zayn asked, nodding towards the bathroom cabinet, and Harry just shrugs because he doesn't know. Zayn pulled away for a bit to search for lube or just something, and Harry finished getting his jeans and boxers down to his thighs. Harry heard Zayn let out a "yes!", so he supposed Zayn found what he was looking for, and gave himself a pat on the back for his choice of friends.

Harry was already stroking himself when Zayn pressed up against him, and Zayn slapped his ass for it, the sharp noise echoing against the tiles, followed by Harry's moan. "Didn't say you could touch," Zayn said, and Harry placed his hands back on the sink. Zayn coated his fingers with lube, and stretched Harry as fast as he could, urged by Harry's pleas of  _come on, come on, want you, I'm good, just fuck me already_. 

When he thought Harry was ready, Zayn pushed his pants down just enough to get his cock out, and slicked himself up. By that time Harry was already a mess, breathing hard and cheeks flushed in a pretty color that matched the tip of his cock, hard and leaking against his stomach. Zayn held on to Harry's hip, and lined himself up with the other, pushing in just as Harry was about to start begging, in one smooth thrust.

Zayn started grinding his hips onto Harry's, too riled up to keep still for too long, and Harry didn't mind at all, pushed back against Zayn until he started fucking him, hard and fast. Harry was loud, too loud for someone who's fucking in the middle of a party, in someone else's home, but he didn't care, he wanted them to hear. He knew Zayn wanted it too, when Zayn looked at him through the mirror, and smirked, fucking into him even harder.

"Yeah, babe, show'em," he groaned in Harry's ear, "let'em know who's fucking you this good. Who's the only one that gets to fuck you, hm?" he asked, licking up Harry's neck, looking at him still.

"You," Harry gasped, struggling to keep his eyes open, to keep looking at Zayn. 

" _Who_ , babe?" Zayn asked again, reaching around Harry and taking him in his hand, stroking Harry in time with his thrusts. Harry whined, and he couldn't take it anymore, closed his eyes tightly, overwhelmed by everything, Zayn's hand on him, Zayn's cock in him, knowing anyone outside could be listening, knowing they probably  _were_  listening.

"You, Zayn, you, oh--fuck, fuck,  _Zayn_ ," he cried out, and came, his knees almost giving out with the force of it, his whole body shaking. Zayn picked up his pace, fucked Harry through it, until his movements stuttered a bit, he tightened his grasp on Harry's hip, and came as well, deep inside of Harry. Harry silently blessed the day they decided to stop wearing condoms, because no matter the mess, there was nothing better than feeling Zayn filling him up, or watching himself drip down Zayn's thighs.

Zayn clung to Harry's back, both of them taking deep breaths, until Zayn started chuckling.

"Shit, that was good. And crazy," he said, planting soft kisses on the back of Harry neck, and on his shoulders. Harry laughed as well, and they cleaned themselves up as best as they could, kissing in between fixing their clothes and hair, even though the flush on Harry's cheeks was a dead giveaway of what they had done. Just as Harry was reaching for the door, Zayn stopped him with a hand wrapped around his wrist.

Harry looked at him, ready to ask why, and Zayn just-- "We should get married. Will you be my husband again?" he asked, smiling dopily, out of nowhere.

"Don't think I won't," Harry laughed, thinking Zayn was joking. When Zayn didn't laugh as well, his expression sobered up. "Are you serious?"

Zayn chewed on his lip, then shrugged, "Might as well. I mean, we did it once, and I think we'd still be married if we hadn't been stupid. So?" Harry blinked a couple of times, then broke into a huge grin, throwing himself at Zayn, and kissing him stupid. "I'll take this as a yes, then?" Zayn said when they pulled again, his grin matching Harry's.

A few days later they got married again, no big party or anything, just went to the courthouse, the boys as their witnesses, and got married. Later that night, Zayn tattooed his words on Harry's hip, and Harry tattooed his on Zayn's. 

 

Harry was the one who brought up having a kid.

They'd thrown a party to celebrate Zayn's and Louis' tattoo parlor getting picked to be the new NY Ink setting, and were fucking on their couch because of course a celebratory party lead to celebratory sex, Zayn all riled up from the good news, pushing Harry down on the couch and straddling his hips the second their last guest was out the door. He made a show of opening himself up, quick and efficient, before he sat down on Harry's cock.

It was frantic for a second there, Zayn holding himself up with his hands on the back of the couch, bouncing on Harry's lap, until he slowed down, after getting the edge off. Zayn moved his hands to Harry's hair, holding on to it as he rolled his hips slowly, and Harry just let him, because Zayn got like this sometimes, wanted to make it last for as long as they could.

Harry squeezed Zayn's thighs, canting his hips up ever so slightly, meeting him thrust for thrust, as he moved his hands up Zayn's torso, feeling his muscles shift under his palms with his movements. Zayn must've noticed how in awe Harry looked at him (was there any other way to look at Zayn, though?), because he grinned, and leaned back, placed his hands on Harry's knees, offering himself up even more.

Harry moved a hand higher up, touching Zayn's chest, then his jaw, running a thumb across his lower lip. Zayn smirked, and took Harry's thumb into his mouth, moaning around it, and clenching around Harry's cock. It should look like something out of a porno, but it was Zayn, so of course he made it look like it was the highest quality shit, the finest erotica. Harry had to bite hard on his lip to stop himself from coming, moving his hand to the back of Zayn's neck, and pulling him in, kissing him filthily. 

"I wanna get a kid with you," Harry said against Zayn's lips on an impulse, but it didn't make it any less true. It was more than clear to him that he'd love Zayn for the rest of his life, and he wanted everything with him, the good, the bad, the fun, a family. 

Zayn just snorted, moving to hold on to Harry's shoulders again, "This your take on dirty talking, babe?" Harry snorted as well, but shook his head.

"I mean it. I want it, want a family with you, want you always," he said, gasping as Zayn started moving a little faster.

"Yeah?" Zayn asked, and he was still smirking, so Harry took it as a good sign, "Want a boy or a girl?"

"Either. Both," Harry said, moving his hips up, up, faster too, holding on to Zayn's hips, "Just want a kid, with your eyes, your skin, want it so bad." Zayn let his head rest on Harry's shoulder, rolling his hips quickly, his cock trapped between the two of them. Harry knew he was thinking, so he let Zayn be, just kept moving with him.

"Ok, let's do it," Zayn said, a bit breathless. Harry beamed.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Zayn nodded, "But only if I get one who looks just like you too," Zayn grins, still bouncing up and down on Harry's lap. Harry nodded as well, as happy as he ever was.

"Whatever you want."

Zayn grinned, and nodded, kissing Harry, tugging on his lip with his teeth before he pulled away, "Right now I want you to fuck me, though. Fuck me, yeah? Hard," he breathed, and well, Harry was more than happy to comply, tucking his arms under Zayn's, and holding him in place with his hands on Zayn's shoulders, rabitting his hips up until they were coming, till they were spent and sated.

 

Except, while getting a surrogate was their first plan, they found out it wouldn't be that easy. They'd have to get someone to agree to do that for them, they'd have to go through a few attempts of getting it to stick, it could take so long. So they decided to try adopting. And yeah, that was supposed to take a while too, but with Harry's connections, they knew they'd get a kid in no time.

But first, Harry went crazy with kid stuff. He made sure he baby-proofed their entire house, dragged Zayn to endless shopping trips for the baby's room, and bought everything a kid could ever want. Zayn was excited and nervous too, of course, but he took it upon himself to be the realistic one of the two, and tried to get Harry to tone down a bit. Then they started looking for their baby, visited different places, until they found Arya. As soon as they set their eyes on her, they knew she was the one. 

They visited her as much as could as they went through the entire legal process, until finally,  _finally_ , she got to go home with them. Arya settled in pretty quickly, to their surprise, and relief. They were afraid she wouldn't feel at home, or would find it difficult to adapt, but Arya just clicked with them, it felt so natural. Their daddy instincts kicked in in no time, and soon enough, they couldn't imagine a life where Arya wasn't there with them.

Niall and Barbara were more than happy to have someone their son could play with, even though he was a few months older. Sometimes they had sleepovers, taking turns so each couple could have a night off to themselves, and that was it. They were daddies now, they were a family. Zayn's family would visit them more frequently, and Arya was, without a doubt, the life of the house. 

Life couldn't be more perfect if they tried.

***

Harry goes straight to Arya's school when he gets off work, and she's already waiting for him when he gets there. They get ice cream together before going shopping, and Harry listens intently as Arya talks about her day. They visit a few shops after, Harry letting her try on everything she asks. And yeah, they were supposed to get only one dress for their party that night, but it's not Harry's fault if  _everything_  looks good on Arya, so if they end up leaving with five new dresses, well, who can blame him?

Zayn's already there when they get home, and he doesn't even seem surprised when he sees all the bags Harry is carrying. He just rolls his eyes, and asks "Which one is she wearing tonight?", picking her up in his arms, and taking her to her room to get her ready. He asks about her day as well as he helps her in the shower, and Arya is more than happy to tell him, now including everything she and daddy had done.

Zayn gets Arya all dressed up, and styles her hair " _real pretty with a bow in the back, baba, please,_ " as Harry showers and gets ready himself. Then it's Zayn's turn to take a shower and get dressed, so Harry makes Arya a snack, watching carefully as she eats so she won't get her outfit dirty. Zayn takes a bit longer to get ready because of how long it takes to style his hair the way he likes it, but the wait is always so worthy. 

Harry will never get used to how Zayn looks in a suit. Never. Not even after all this time. He knows it, and Zayn knows it, the smug bastard who's now looking at Harry with a smirk on his face, as he twirls in place. "Good?" he asks, and Harry rolls his eyes.

"You know you look good, you always do."

Zayn smiles and gives his husband a kiss, "We good to go?" he asks, looking at Arya, "Ready to party, baby?" Arya giggled and nodded, grinning.

"Ready, baba!"

"Alright, let's go, then," he smiles, and the three of them go downstairs to their car. 

Later that night, as Harry looks at the two biggest loves of his life smiling happily, he knows that yeah, as much as people say "what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas," he couldn't be happier that he brought his Vegas mess home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand, that's it! Hope you guys have enjoyed the ride so far, and I'd also like to thank you all for the nice comments, kudos, bookmarks, everything, really, you have no idea how happy you guys make me. I had no idea this you get the response it got, like, over 400 kudos, wtf?  
> Let me know what you guys thought of this, if you expected it to turn out a different way, or something. Also, I'm already having ideas for my next little project, and I'm torn between doing a Hogwarts AU, or something from the A/B/O universe, considering both options aren't that explored in Zarry, which one you'd like to see first?  
> Anyway, until next time! xx


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